Tranquility
by Saint's Dead Girl
Summary: All his life Daryl's had this annoying ability to read the minds of everyone around him with no way of making it stop, except to live in isolation. So that's what he does, only coming to town a few times a year. While trying to hurry up and get the few items he needed, a stranger runs in to him and for once, the only voice he hears in his head is his own.
1. Chapter 1

When asked "If you could have any superpower, what would it be?", a good many people say "I'd want to read people's minds." After all, it seems like an ideal power to have. You could know answers to test without having to study or win big in poker by knowing everyone's hands. Untold riches by simply reading the right person's mind.

But, what if you couldn't turn it off?

What if every moment of every day, you were hearing countless voices that weren't your own? Every personal thought, dirty secret, and rude remark left unsaid. You'd know right away that your spouse was lying to your face and every little flaw people saw in you.

Nothing could be hidden from you.

Well, that's exactly why Daryl has chosen to live deep in the woods all on his own. He found out as a child that the farther you were from people the less likely you were to hear their thoughts. So the first chance he got, he packed his bags, and moved as deep into the woods as he could, and as far away from anybody else.

Never the less, hearing others thoughts was daunting and drove him to heated outburst when people would silently judge him. Those outbursts and his reclusive nature have earned him the reputation of being a wild man. People only saw him as an uncivilized, filthy, mountain man that lost track with reality.

In truth, Daryl was quite adapted at living off the land and rarely needed to go into town for anything. On the off chance he did need to go to town, he would make the trip quick and those in town knew to avoid him. There seem to be a mutual understanding between him and the others that if they left him alone, he would get what he needed and be gone.

So he expected this visit to go just like all the others before. He would head into town in his beat-up truck and try to ignore the voices of panicking judgment in his ears. Get the things he needed for the next month or two, and leave before the stuff people thought got the best of him and he would snap.

So far, all was going well. He'd gone to the hardware store and managed not to roll his eyes at the lady thinking, "I hope he doesn't attack someone with that hammer." And he'd gone to the pharmacy and ignored the old man thinking, "I bet he's got a meth lab going in the woods." He had just one last stop, the general goods store, to pick up the last things on his list.

He was walking down the street to the store when a young woman ushered her child to the other side, when he hears, "Best not look at my child you freak."

That was it! You can think of him as a murder or even a drug dealer, but Daryl was not going to stand being thought of as a child abuser.

Daryl stopped and whipped around to tell the lady that he was no pedophile and that she should be ashamed of such a snap judgment. Yet, before he could open his mouth, or even focus his sights on her. His vision was blocked by another face crashing into his.

"Son of a bitch!" he yells out while cupping his throbbing nose. "Jesus Christ! How about you watch where you're going!"

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" the man says, "You're not bleeding are you?"

Daryl pulls his hand back to see his hand was clean, "No, no I think I'm alright."

The man sighs, "That's good! I thought I might have broken it. I've been told I'm a bit of a hard head." He laughs at his own joke. "But as long as you're okay,"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He looks over at the man and then realizes that this whole time he hadn't heard a single thought of the man's. Nothing. No smart remark, no fearful plea, no silent relief, nothing. He was just standing there with his pleased but still concerned expression.

"Then I'll be on my way, I'm already running late as it." He holds out his hand, and though still in a daze, Daryl takes it to shake. "My name's Paul Rovia."

"Daryl Dixon." He mumbles, while around them he can see the shocked and worried looks of those watching their interaction, but again no thoughts. Had the blow to the head knocked it out of him? Was that really all it took? If so why didn't any of the ones his father had given him work?

"Well take care, Daryl." The man rushes past him and then turns to run backward and say, "Sorry again for running into you." He says with a wave before turning right way around and disappearing around the corner. Then, like the dam broke, they all come rushing back with their annoying voices. -

"Did you see that? He just let him walk off like that."

"That poor man is as good as dead!"

"Should I have pizza or lasagna?"

"I need to call the doctor to look at this blister."

"Damn, that Greene girl is so hot!"

\- Daryl claps his hands over his ears, though it doesn't do him any good, and rushes to the store.

Thankfully, the people here had no idea of the odd collision that just happened. So their thoughts were back to normal. With a deep breath, he strides through the store to collect the things he needs so he can be on his way.

While browsing the personal hygiene aisle, he overhears a woman talking to someone else on the next aisle over, "Yeah his name is Paul, and he has reasonable rates. You should give him a call and get Tyler in his classes." Daryl's interest peeks so he listens attentively.

"Where has he set up shop?" the other woman asks.

"You know the old pet shop? The one with the big open windows?"

"Yeah, okay, I know where you mean. Down at the end of Main street right?"

"Right. He's renting …" The two women start to walk off and Daryl is unable to hear them anymore over the thoughts of people saying he looks like a creep for standing in front of the tampons and staring at the floor. Shaking his head, he grabs what he came down this aisle for, toothpaste and body wash, and heads to the front to check out.

With his things paid for, Daryl wastes no time getting to his truck and leaving town. He needed to think about what had happened and couldn't do that with 50 other voices muddling in.

He couldn't explain it. Why was he driving back into town only a day after his last visit? Normally, it would be at least a month before his next trip. Yet, this morning when he got up, he got ready, got in his truck and started for the town before he really knew why. Like something was pulling him there.

He says something when he knows it's more like someone.

All night, he'd thought about how for one brief moment, he had only his voice in his head. How for the first time since he was a child, he was able to hear the birds without being 10 miles deep in the woods. And how for some reason that he couldn't understand, some stranger with a beard and hair longer than his, was behind it. So his hunter's instinct took over, and he began hunting down that sense of peace again.

The townspeople also seemed shocked he'd returned and their thoughts just reinforced that notion that he was different than them and unwelcomed. Daryl, however, could care less what they were thinking at the moment and continued to walk through the town searching for the man that ran into him.

He'd walked all the way to one end of Main street looking for an old pet shop with large open windows with no luck. He was about to head back to the end when he passed a building he originally thought was empty upon first inspections. Yet this time, the lights were on and someone was dragging heavy mats across the floor.

While he stood there wondering if this was the place and if that was Paul himself, he sees the reflection of someone passing behind him on the street. Not knowing he can see them, they stare at him as they pass, but just like yesterday, there was nothing.

Daryl closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of relief. This was it, the calm he wanted all his life, he'd finally found it. Then, just as before, it came back in flash.

"Someone should call the police on him and just have him locked up for good."

His eyes pop open and he looks down the street at the person who just passed by. He then looks back through the window and sees that the man has disappeared. "Where did he go?" he leans forward and peers through the glass looking for the man. A moment later, he comes back out from the back and is dressed differently.

His hair is pulled up in a messy bun, he'd lost his shirt and shoes, and was left only in loose fitting pants. Daryl steps back from the window wondering just what kind of class this was he was running. He debates just leaving now and saying forget the man, but when he starts to move, Daryl finds himself planted in place.

In a second, the man is throwing punches and kicking at punching bag with such speed and force, it's a wonder the thing didn't bust open. He recalls how bright and happy he had seemed yesterday after he'd ran into him, but to see him now, it's clear the man was lethal under that smile.

He watches the man to the point where he knows it's becoming creepy and decides he should either leave or make his presences known. Balling up his fist, he hesitates but brings it up to knock on the window.

The man stops mid-strike and turns to look in his direction. Paul's face lights up when he sees him and he hurries over to the door to unlock it. "Hey, didn't expect you see you so soon. Please come in, come in." He steps aside and Daryl steps in.

"How's the nose?" he asks while wiping the sweat from his face, "Wait! You're not here to give me some medical bill are you?"

"No, said I was fine."

"Oh, then you must be here to sign up for the adult's class, right?" he flips his sweat rag over his shoulder and smiles proudly with his arms crossed.

Daryl scoffs, "No, but is that what you'd teach?" he says weekly pointing over at the punching bag.

Paul looks over at the bag and sighs, "Yeah, that's the goal. Though, it takes a lot of hard work and training to be about to do that." He says with a nod toward the bag. "Most people quit within the first 6 months because they think I'm just going to teach them how to do flying roundhouse kicks like in the movies and are disappointed when I don't."

"I see." He murmurs.

"But enough about me, what can I do for you?" Paul smiles.

"What?"

"Well, I don't wanna seem rude, but if you're not here give me a bill or join the class, then what did you come here for?"

"Oh, yeah," Daryl was so lost in the quite that he'd forgotten the whole reason he'd come in the first place. Although, now that he's here, he sees how insane just coming out and saying "Hey, I can read minds, but not when you're around. Any idea as to why that is?" so he just shrugs. "I was just passing by and saw you in the window."

"Oh, well, you're welcome to hang out here if you want. I mean I have the adult class coming around 10, but after that, I'm free till school lets out and the kids come around 4."

"No, that's okay." Daryl says with a shake of his head, "I don't want to be a bother."

"It's no bother really." Paul grins, "We have people sit in and watch all the time to see if they want to join up. So I'm sure the others won't even notice you're here."

"Trust me, they'll notice." He says disheartened. "Might even ruin your business if I'm spotted here, actually."

Paul's faces twist, "What does that mean?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it." He looks over at the door and knows he has to get out of there soon or he'll never want to leave. "I'll be going now."

"Well wait, wait," Paul grabs his arm and stops him, "how about I treat you to lunch?"

Now Daryl's the confused one, "Why would you do that?"

"Well, I guess as an apology for running into you like I did." He lets go of his arm and steps back nervously, "I felt kind of shitty just running off like that without offering to make it up to you in some way."

Daryl's cheeks start to burn and he looks down in attempt to hid it. "You don't have to do that."

"Your right, I don't have to." Paul shrugs, "but I'd still like to, if you'd let me, that is."

"I um…" his nerves get the best of him and his whole body starts to vibrate while his blood runs cold, "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Please, I mean, it's just lunch." He pleads, "What harm can come from lunch?"

"A lot, actually." Is what he wanted to say, but he could see that there was no getting out of this without being rude and flat out refusing. "Alright, fine" he nods.

"Great!" Paul beams "So the uh, adult class is over at 11:30. So how about I just meet you outside after that? Sound good?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll just uh," he looks out the window and fears having to back out there where he can hear everything, "hang around town until then I guess."

"Alright then, I'm gonna go get ready for class now," He starts to back up and grins, "so I'll see you later okay?"

"Yep."

"Good. Great, okay see ya soon." With that, he turns and runs off through a back door and out of sight.

With a dreadful sigh, Daryl turns to leave the building, and as soon as he steps out on to the street, the voices start. -

"Where has that cat gone this time?"

"Did I remember to turn on the alarm this morning?"

"I wish that bitch would get hit by a car already!"

"I wonder if I'll have kids one day."

\- Gritting his teeth and tightening his fist, he forces himself to head deeper into the town, therefore deeper into the chasm of thoughts.

As he walks down the sidewalk for the second day in a row, he didn't know if he would be able to listen to everyone's inner monologs for the next two hours. He considers saying fuck it and heading home, but every time he would turn around to start for his truck, he would imagine Paul's disappointed face, and stop. His curiosity about the man and his infatuation over the peace he brought, was strong enough that he could endure the barrage of musing townsmen.

"Why is that fucking creep here again?"

At least he hoped.

Daryl tried to hang around town, he really did. But after sitting on a park bench for about 20 minutes, and hearing multiple threats to call cops if he did something mundane, he decided he needed to find a better spot to wait.

Somewhere that wasn't out in the open.

So he went to the library, thinking at least the people there could give him a story to listen to as they read. However, it was clear he wasn't welcomed there either when he walked in and the lady behind the counter clinched her book and thought, "Please don't rape me."

He didn't even bother sitting down.

So, he spent the last hour lingering outside the old pet shop out of sight, enjoying the brief moment's Paul would be close enough to block out the world. He wasn't sure why being around Paul turned off his ability but, right now, he wasn't going to question it too much. Maybe later, but not now.

Around the corner, he hears the verbal chatter of the adults leaving Paul's class. Rising to his feet, he steps out enough to watch them leave, but not far enough for them to notice him. As each one left, he felt a sense of relief that he couldn't hear anything outside what they said aloud.

After the last of the attendees came out, Daryl waited a moment longer, then stepped out on to the street to stand in front of the building. He didn't know the time exactly, but if the others had left, it shouldn't be long before Paul would be coming out.

In fact, it wasn't a minute later when the door swung open and out stepped the man. "Oh hey. I expected I would have to wait for you not the other way around."

"Yeah, I'd run out of things to do in town. So I came back sooner." He lies.

"Oh, well I hope you didn't wait long." Daryl just shakes his head. "You don't talk much do you?" he shakes his head again and Paul laughs, "That's alright, I won't force you to talk if you don't want to."

Daryl gives a crooked grin, "Thanks."

"Anytime. So, any ideas of where you'd like to go?" Paul starts to walk down the street and Daryl automatically follows.

It's been years since Daryl had been out to eat that he honestly had no idea what there was around here to eat. "Not really. Haven't had someone else make my food since my mom died."

"So you do a lot of cooking then? That's good. I couldn't cook if my life depended on it." He laughs, and Daryl appreciates that he doesn't probe about his mother. "Since it's still kinda early, how about we just grab a couple sandwiches down at the Sub Shack?"

"Sounds good."

"Okay then."

They continued their walk in silence and Daryl really starts to wonder what it was about the man that made him act as a signal jammer for his ability. Everyone stared as they passed, which Daryl was used to, but to do it in total peace was a new experience.

One he could easily get spoiled on.

When they walked into the Sub Shack, Paul pointed over at the table next to the window, "There's a table." He says then heads that way. Daryl follows, despite feeling uncomfortable about sitting next to the window where anyone walking by can see them.

There was a simple menu left on the table that each of them looked over for a moment before the waitress came and took their order. While they waited Daryl picked at his dirty nails and tried not to look Paul in the eye. "You don't like people all that much do you?"

Shocked, he looked up to see a sad but understanding look on Paul's face. "What makes you think that?"

"Just little things I've noticed."

"Like?"

"Well," Paul takes a deep breath, "You watch your feet as you walk, you avoid eye contact, you're fidgeting, you try to hide your face with your hair. Not to mention you said it's been a while since anyone has made you food, so that screams you live alone and like it."

"So?"

"So what? I didn't say it was a bad thing." He laughs.

"Yeah, well," Daryl lend back and crossed his arms, "I don't like how two-faced everyone is. Constantly saying one thing and thinking something completely different."

"But that's how everyone is, and just because they think it doesn't mean it's true."

"Doesn't mean it hurts any less either."

"Well, that's true too." He laughs. "So it's a good thing we can't read minds then huh?"

"Yeah." He sighs sadly. "Guess so."

Soon after, the waitress returns with their food and the two start to eat. Not much more was said, until they were about half done with their plates, and Paul asked, "How is it?"

Daryl shrugs, "It's alright. Little bland for what I'm used to."

"Oh? And what are you used to?"

"Well, not sandwiches."

"So what do you normally eat then?"

"Whatever I feel like making really. I hunt and keep a garden, so everything is always fresh and unprocessed."

"Wow, so when you say you cook, you really mean you cook." He awes, "So, do you buy anything?"

"Not really. Not to eat anyway." He admits. "I mean, I buy things I can't make like soap, toothpaste, clothes and things when I need them, but other than that no."

"Wow. So almost completely off the grid." Daryl nods, "That's amazing."

Daryl's stomach flips. No one's ever called his way of life amazing or seemed interested in actually talking to him about it. "It's just how I've always done it."

"So then no real job?" Daryl shakes his head no, "Then how do you have money to buy the stuff you do need?"

"I got a settlement when my mom died from the insurance." He admits. "Couldn't touch it till I was 18, and I don't spend more than a few hundred every few months, so it's lasted me a while."

"Oh. I see."

The silence returns for a moment, but he can tell Paul really wants to ask about his mother. He's already mentioned her death twice and he's been polite enough not to question it.

"It was a house fire." He volunteers.

"What?"

"It's how she died." He glances up at him timidly, "A house fire."

"That's… that's awful. I'm so sorry."

"I was 12 so I don't remember much about her."

"Still, it's a terrible way to go."

"Yeah." Daryl nods and starts to pick at his food, "It's actually the first time I've talked out loud about her."

"We'll like I said, I won't force you to talk about it if you don't want to."

Daryl doesn't say anything else.

After they eat, Paul goes to pay for their food and Daryl steps out to have a smoke and wait for him. While outside, some other patrons come out and start talking about them.

"Wasn't that the new karate instructor with the weirdo?" the man says.

"Yeah, I was told he holds a good glass for the kids, but if that's the kind of people he hangs out with, I don't know I'd want my kids in his class." The woman replies.

"I know what you mean. If you lay with the dogs-"

"You what?" he speaks ups so the duo knows he's there and can hear what they are saying.

The two of them stutter out something incoherent, while he glares at them through his cigarette smoke. Taking a quick glance inside, he sees that Paul isn't looking and takes his chance. "Your best bet is to get the fuck out of my sight before I count to three."

"What!?" the man scoffs, "You think we're just going to leave just because you say so?"

"One."

"Honey let's just go." His girlfriend says clearly scared.

"Two." He tosses his cigarette to the ground and stomps it out.

"Man you're lucky my girls here, or I would have-"

"Just drop it and let's go!" the woman interrupts while tugging on his arm till he finally decided to go with her.

Paul walks out just in time to see the two of them walking off. "Friends of yours?"

"Never spoke to them before now."

"Oh well, just seen you talking through the window so I just assumed,"

"Well, you know what they say about assuming things." He glances down at his feet and knows he has to nip this in the bud before it goes too far. "Look," he looks up at Paul who was smiling just like always. He hatted to ruin that. "thanks for lunch, but I don't think it's wise if we see each other again."

"What?" his smile falls and he looks hurt, "Why? I thought we were getting along."

"We were. We are." He stutters. "It's just… if you're seen with me anymore… it won't be good for you."

"What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it. Let's just draw the line here, okay?"

"Yeah, but, did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing you did, I'm just not the best person for you to try and be friends with, alright?"

Paul couldn't seem to grasp the Daryl was trying to save him from being a marked man like him. If they were to make this routine, word would spread, and Paul's business was sure to fail and he would be out of a job. Setting him up to be mocked and ridiculed behind his back just for associating with him, and that was something Daryl couldn't stand. Not after he'd been so kind to him.

"Look, I gotta go. See ya around." Daryl starts to walk away despite desperately wanting to stay in the bubble of tranquility Paul had surrounding him.

"One, two, three," he counts the steps to see how far he gets before the voices come back, "Six, seven, eight,"

"I gotta go to the bank, then the store, pick up the kids-"

Daryl quickly looks back and sees Paul has started to walk the other way. With his 9 steps, and whatever Paul had walked, Daryl figured the bubble worked as long as he was within 15 feet of the man.

Too bad he planned to never get that close to him again.


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl's mind over the next week was in turmoil.

Even as deep as he lived in the mountains, there was still some people that lived close enough that he could hear a whisper of their thoughts, along with anyone hunting or hiking nearby. So at any moment, there could be a stranger's voice in his head, which he'd grown used to over the years.

Now, that he knew what was possible through Paul, it's all he could focus on.

He'd burnt a stew he'd tried to make and had to throw it out, wasting the meat he'd worked so hard to hunt and prepare. He then sliced his thumb while carving some new bolts for his bow. Lastly, he'd fucked up the radiator hose on his truck when he'd been trying to repair it and now had to get a new one.

Yet without his truck, he was left with walking into town to get the part.

By the time he'd made it, he was dead tired and dripping sweat. It might have only been a thirty-minute drive from home to town, but on foot, the trip took just over 6 hours. He'd even started early hoping he'd make it there before the sun had time to heat the roads up, but it wasn't soon enough.

The last hour or so had been hot as hell and he'd long since drank what little water he'd brought along with him. So ignoring that people were cursing his return, he made a b-line for the first convent store he saw to get something to drink before he died.

Once his thirst had been somewhat quenched, he set back out for the auto store to get the part he needed before making the long 6-hour trip back home.

Paul spent the next week secretly looking for Daryl despite knowing he wouldn't find him any time soon. The man had said he didn't come to town but once every few months. So with any luck, it would be a few weeks before he would come back to town, but that didn't mean he would stop looking, just in case.

After they had parted the other day, he'd went back to his dojo and got ready to teach the kids class. Yet the whole time he was in front of them, he kept wondering what it was he'd done to make Daryl run off so fast. After all, by his own admission, he'd been having a good time, so what was it that made him want to call it quits?

When that class was over, and while he was handing out drinks to the kids, he'd overheard some of the parents talking about Daryl. They were discussing how it was unusual for him to return to town two days in a row, and so he decided to ask them. "Excuse me, but what was that you just said? About Daryl?"

"Oh, the wild man?"

"Is that what you all call him?" he questioned.

"Well, yeah, but only cause it's true." The women had said. "He lives out there in the woods all by himself and only comes to town a few times a year."

"Yeah, and when he does, he always glares at everyone or starts fights for no reason what so ever." A second mother told him.

"Plus, he always looks so dirty and grimy." The first lady adds, "Makes you wonder if the man's ever heard of a bath."

That's when things started to add up for him.

In the Sub Shack, Daryl had mentioned how he didn't like how two-faced people were, meaning he must have known how the town saw and spoke of him. So despite the fact they were having a good time, he must have thought that stigma would rub off on to him if they hung out, and distanced himself in an attempt to save him.

However, now that he had an idea as to why Daryl walked off like he had, it didn't make him feel better. If anything it angered him and made him want to reach out even more.

But with what limited information he had of the guy, he had no way of reaching out except waiting for the next time he saw him in town.

It was now the morning of the 8th day, and his hopes were not high that he'd find the other man today either. Mainly because that it was a Friday which meant that he didn't have any classes today. So he had no reason to go into town, further lowering the chances of finding Daryl.

Being it one of the only days of the week he has off, he spent most of it lying in bed watching TV till the rumbling of his stomach forced him out of bed. Shuffling out of his bedroom around 11, he heads to the kitchen and opens the cabinet to grab a bowl and the cereal. He then steps over to the fridge to get the milk but finds none.

"Oh right…" he sighs as looks at the 'To Do List' stuck to his fridge and glares at the words 'Get Milk' he'd written there 2 days ago. "Guess I could make eggs…" but higher on the list he remembers writing 'Get Eggs' 4 days ago. "Or I could just go to the store!" he sneered.

Heading back to his room to get dressed, he laughs at how absentminded he's been recent. "I can't believe I forgot to go shopping." He ties his shoes and grabs his keys to head out.

Diving through town to the store, Paul had his music playing and was singing along loudly. He's sure to those passing by that he looks and sounds ridiculous but he didn't care. He was having fun and that's all that matter to him. However, to be courtesy to those around him, when he pulled up to the red light, he turned the music down to patiently wait his turn like them.

And there he was.

The reason he'd forgotten to go to the store, just walking across the street as he himself waited for the light to change. But with a couple of cars between them, he was too to just call out to him. And he's all most certain that if he did, Daryl would do nothing but ignore him, if not run.

So when the light changed, he switched lane and followed the man. Keeping a safe distance of course.

Paul ended up following him all the way to the auto store that was on the complete opposite side of town than the one he needed to be on. "Well I've stalked him this far might as well see what he's doing." Paul reasons as he parks across the street before dodging traffic to be at the store's entrances.

Stepping in about 5 minutes after Daryl, he was sure that he could say it was just a coincidence they were there at the same time if he's spotted. So walking up the first aisle he grabs a basket to make it seem like he's there to shop.

Daryl had his back turned to look at something on the other side of the store, so Paul started to creep closer. Moving up and down each aisle acting like a shopper, despite not knowing what half the stuff in here was used for.

He'd made his way through the store till he was about 20 feet off from him, and thought "wow this is easy." Though almost as soon as he thought it is when Daryl suddenly looked up from whatever he was looking at and started to look around. Paul quickly dropped to the floor before he could be seen and acted like he was looking at something on the bottom shelf.

After a minute or two, he put the item back on the shelf and stood up to see if Daryl was still there. He wasn't. Figuring he might have been done with his shopping, he quickly looks to the front to see if he was in line but sighs when he's not there either. "He must have left." He thinks.

"Are you following me!"

Paul whips around to find a not so happy Daryl standing directly behind him. "I um, I'm just uh… no." Daryl just continues to glare. "So much for the coincidence idea," he thinks. "Okay yes, fine I was." He admits.

"Well stop it!" Daryl growls pushing past and going to get in line, "I told you to just leave me alone."

"No," Paul put the basket down in one of the holders at the end of the aisle, "No you said that we shouldn't hang out," Paul says following him through the store. "You didn't say anything about leaving you alone."

"Okay, fine then I'm saying it now; leave me alone."

"But why."

"Done told you why, didn't you listen?" Daryl puts his items on the counter for the man to ring up.

"To what? That half ass excuse, no I didn't."

"That'll be 58.30 sirs." The man says guardedly.

Daryl pulls out three 20 dollar bills and slaps them on the countertop. "Keep the change." Then grabs his bags and heads out.

"Daryl wait," Paul runs out of the store after him, "Come on just talk to me, please!"

"Why can't you get it through your thick head? I said no?"

"Please, just 5 minutes."

"Can't, I got shit to do." He continues walking down the street, trying to get away.

"Then let me drive you back to your car and we can talk on the way."

"Aint gotta car to drive me to."

"Then your bike or, or horse, or whatever."

"Jesus, fuck, what do you think I am a cowboy?" Daryl stops and turns back around to face him, "Look, the radiator hose on my truck busted yesterday, so I had to walk down here to get the parts to fix it." He holds open his bags to show the parts, "So you see, there's no car, or horse, for you to drive me to. Now leave me alone."

Paul looks down in the bag then swiftly takes his arm before he can walk away, "Then let me drive you home." he offers eagerly. "We don't even have to talk. I won't say a word if you don't want me to."

Daryl tilts his head in disbelief, "You were just following me, begging like a whore for me to talk to you and now you say you're going to drive me home and not say a word."

"If it will get you in the car, then yes." He smiles, hoping that his smile alone would sway him, but it failed to work.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Daryl fusses jerking his arm free, "I told you the other day that you'd be better off not knowing me but you wanna chase me down."

"Look, Daryl, I just wanna talk, okay." Paul would have to try a different tactic, "Truth is, I've been looking for you for the last week and this is the first time I've seen you so I'm not letting you get away till I say what I have to say. So please, just humor me and get in the car." He says pointing back at his car.

Daryl looks over in the direction he gestures and huffs, "Fine, if it'll shut you up I'll go with you. Beats walking for another 6 hours too, I guess."

"Thank you!" Paul sighs and steps to the side for him to lead the way.

"Ya think I'm gonna run or something?" Daryl asks as he walks by.

"Well, at this point I wouldn't put it past you." Paul chuckles as he follows behind.

Once he'd finally gotten him to the car he turns to look at him and waits. Daryl sees him and starts to stares back at him for a moment before finally saying "WHAT?" but true to his word Paul doesn't speak, "What the fuck you staring at me for?" Paul still doesn't talk but has started to smile, "Oh, oh for fuck sakes, you can talk damn it." Daryl groans as he realizes what he was doing.

"Good," he laughs "was gonna be hard to ask what way to go without it." He starts up his car and pulls up to the exit of the parking lot. "So um… which way?"

"Left, then just stay straight till you get to the post office then take a right out of town."

"Alright, I can do that." He says pulling out on to the road.

While they drive through town, Paul watches him out of the corner of his eye and smiles. He acts almost like a dog watching every single person and place as they pass with curiosity filling his face. "Like he's never seen the town before." Then he remembers how little he comes to town and it sorta makes sense.

When he reaches the post office, he turned right like Daryl had told him and continued to drive till they'd gotten out of town. "Alright, what is it you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, well, there wasn't anything in particular actually. I just didn't like how you left without letting me get my two cents in last time." He admits, "But since then I've learned a bit and think I understand what you mean when you say 'we shouldn't be seen together'."

"Oh yeah, and what did you learn?"

"Well," he chewed on his lip as he thinks about what the mothers had said to him, "I learned how the people of town see you, and why you avoid them as much as possible." He says softly and Daryl looked away. "But, if it helps my case any, I think their dead wrong about you."

"It doesn't." he pledged, looking out the window again.

"Okay, well I *gggrrrrmmmbb* oh my god!" Paul throws his hand over his stomach and starts to laugh, while Daryl watches him, "I'm so sorry, I haven't eaten all day. In fact, I was on my way to the store to get food when I'd seen you walk across the street."

"I see." Daryl glances down at his hand still draped over his stomach

"Yeah, sorry that was so loud."

"It's fine, uh, turn here." He points out the window to the right.

Paul turned off the main road on to the older back road and noticed immediately the change. They'd been slowly moving up into the mountains, but this road was curvy and wound straight up it seemed like. "Wow, this road would be great on a motorcycle I bet."

"It is," Daryl whispers.

"Do you have one?" he asks excitedly.

"No, my brother does."

"You have a brother?" Paul gasps.

"Yeah, an older one."

"Cool, I always wanted a brother or sister, but I'm an only child."

"He was gone enough that I might as well be," Daryl says.

"That's a Que to shut up if I'd ever seen one," Paul tells himself as he watches the road twist and turns.

A few minutes later, Daryl points to the left and says, "That next turn there. That's my driveway." Paul turns accordingly and turns off the back road on to a gravel/dirt road. Moments later, around a large bend in the driveway, appeared a nice double wide traitor with a garage built off to one side and a greenhouse garden off to the other.

"Wow! This is amazing." He gawks out the window as he stops the car in front of the house. "You actually live here?"

"Ya say that like it's a mansion." Daryl scoffs as he gets out bags in hand.

"Might as well be compared to my place," Paul tells him as he looks around at the small clearing. "All I have is a one-bedroom apartment with noisy ass neighbors."

"Well, it's not the Hampton's but it's home." He says while walking up to the front door.

"Yeah, but I'd much prefer this to the Hampton's if I'm honest." He looks over to see Daryl unlocking his front door and takes that as a sign that's it's time for him to leave. "Well, I guess I'll see you around."

"Aren't you coming in?" Daryl questions.

Surprised, Paul looks up and over his car at him, "Can I?" he asks a bit too enthusiastic even for his option, "I mean, you don't have to invite me in to be nice, if you don't want to."

"You said you ain't eaten today?"

"Yeah, but,"

"Are you hungry or not!?" Paul nods and tries to fight the smile growing on his face, "Then shut the hell up, get your ass in the house, and let me feed you." Again, he didn't leave him any time to argue as he walked in the house leaving him standing out in the yard alone.

But not for long.

Paul quickly closed the door of his car and rushed up the stairs to the front door. "Pardon my intrusion." He said as he stepped in.

Looking around briefly he sees the place is extremely clean and kept up just like on the outside. There was minimum décor, but it looked nice and inviting which was a shock seeing as the man who lived here was anything but.

There was some suddenly some noise off to his right and so figuring that is where Daryl was, that's where he went.

"I hope you like stew," Daryl says as soon as he'd stepped into the room. Paul watched as he spooned him out a bowl from the crock-pot and then placed it on the table for him. "I normally make enough food so I can eat off for a few days, so there's plenty if you want more." He explains while taking the items he'd bought out of the bag. "Just put the bowl in the sink when you're done and I'll wash it later."

Paul sits down at the table and takes a bite and is blown away, "Oh my lord this is," he turns to see Daryl had already gone outside, "delicious. Well, I'll tell you later." He says turning back to the bowl and to finish eating.

The more he ate, the more he understood what he'd meant when he said the subs were bland. His stew had so much flavor it was ridiculous. It was a bit spicy but not so much so that's you immediately grab for the glass of milk. Just enough to give it that perfect zing. There were also fresh vegetables, and chunks of meat to give it texture so it wasn't just the soup. In every sense it was perfect.

So taking Daryl up on his offer, after he finished this bowl, he made himself another one and ate it all too.

Once he'd finished his second bowl, he sat it in the sink, like he was told, then headed outside to find Daryl.

He found him in the garage with his legs sticking out from under the truck. "Hey there." He says announcing his presence, but Daryl doesn't say anything. "Just so you know, that stew was really good."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," he whispers, rocking back and forth on his feet. "So need any help?"

"Do you know anything about cars?"

"No, but I-"

"Then no, I don't."

Paul realizes he's pushing the limits on his welcome and decides to take his leave before making Daryl angry. "Alright, well I guess I'll be going now then. Thanks again for the food."

"Alright, thanks for the ride." He says without coming out from under the truck.

Paul gazes at him while he works for a moment then sighs and turns around to walk back to his car.

Daryl listens as Paul walks away, gets in his car, and then drives off before he slides out from under his truck. He'd actually finished putting the hose on his truck a few minutes after he'd started working on it but was scared to have Paul stay here any longer.

He hadn't planned on showing him exactly where he lived, but when his stomach had growled in the car, he felt bad and made the split decision to feed him as a thank you. If it wasn't for that, he would have asked to be let out at the main road and just walked the last part stretch up the mountainside. But his conscience just couldn't let the only man who'd ever been nice to him to go hungry.

Rising to his feet, he dusts his pants off and steps over to the cab of the truck to test it.

Turning the ignition, the truck turns over and revs to live. Watching the gages for a moment he's relieved to see the water temperature level staying where it should be. "Thank god." He sighs, before turning it off and heading inside.

In the kitchen, he tosses the bags from the auto store in the trash and then washes the bowl Paul had used to eat. With that taken care of and everything put back where it should be, he goes to the fridge to get a beer. Yet, on his fridge door, there was a folded up note with his name on it the front, that was not there this morning.

Jerking it off the fridge, he open's it up to read: " Daryl, I know you don't like people, but everyone gets lonely from time to time, so call me if you'd like some company one day. Even if it's just to share a few beers, first rounds on me. Paul." Then at the bottom of the note was his number.

Daryl scoffs, crumples up the paper, then tosses it across the room into the trash. He then goes to plop down on the couch and watch some tv.

However, the action nags at him the whole time he sits there. So much so that he's unable to focus on the show and continuously finds himself looking over into the kitchen where the trashcan was. And the more he tried to push it out of his mind, the more he thought about it till he groans, slams his beer on the table, and gets up to retrieve the note from the trash.

Pulling out his phone, he quickly types Paul's number in, saves it, drops the note back into the trash, and then returns to his spot on the couch. Taking up his beer, he finally can relax enough to enjoy the show that's playing.


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks past and Daryl soon found himself thinking less and less about the man named Paul. Life continued on like it always had and things seemed to be getting back to normal.

Or as normal as it could be for someone like him.

He still heard the thoughts of those close enough and hated it, but believe it was better this way. Better than relying on someone else to survive and live by normal standards. He didn't need that, he could and always has taken care of his self.

In fact, that's what he was just about to do now, take care of himself. He was running low on meat and was getting ready to go out on a hunt to fix that. Packing a few days' worth of water and food along with his weapon of choice, his bow. Then locking up the house, he walks out into the woods and starts his hunt.

Hunting was always one of his favorite things to do. Being out in the woods alone, tracking his pray, and using his stealth to get close enough to take the shot and kill. Not that he enjoyed killing the deer or boar that he'd find.

Truthfully, he always thought killing for sport was deplorable and hated those who did it. So he always made sure to use every part of the animals he killed, and never killed more then what he needed to survive any given amount of time. He also makes sure the kill is done as quick and painless as he could do out of respect.

They were animals first, food later, and in a way, the only friends he had growing up.

A short time later, Daryl sat on a fallen tree enjoying a snack, some water, and a short break. He'd picked up on the trail of a group of deer earlier and was tracking them to see where they would most likely graze. He was just about to get up to continue his search when he heard a cry.

Looking around he soon finds the source of the cry.

A pup, no older than a few months, comes out from the bushes with his tail tucked and his head held low. "What are you doing out here little guy?" He squats down and holds out his hand as the puppy crawls forward.

Upon closer examination, Daryl figured the puppy had to be lost. Mostly because he looked pretty healthy and well taken care of. He showed no signs of being malnourished, was pretty clean other than dirty paws, and didn't seem afraid of humans. So he had to have some sort of interaction with them before.

When the pup is close enough, it rolled over to show its belly and Daryl sees it's not a boy. "Oh you're a girl aren't you. Well, what are you doing out here sweetie?" The puppy wags her tail wildly and licks his at his fingers where he'd just been holding food.

"You hungry, girl? Is that it? Here," he turns to reach into his bag and pulls out some jerky strips to feed her. "this might help." She quickly eats up the jerky and is soon looking for more. "I'm sorry little girl, that's all I have." He gives her one last petting and stands up, "Well run on home little girl, I'm sure they're looking for you."

Daryl turns around to leave but the puppy follows him. "No, nooo, no!" He points down at the ground and the pup just looks up at him and smiles, "Go home. Go!" he points out into the woods, but the pup doesn't move.

Backing up, he keeps an eye on the pup hoping she'd stay put. But after a couple steps, she jumps to her feet, and bounds after him. "No damn it! Stay here!" Again he tries to leave, but she stays hot on his heels.

Frustrated at the pup's persistence, Daryl takes off running.

Darting through the trees he tries his best to lose the pup in the woods, but her little legs keep up with his. He doubles back and tries to hide from her, but she's quick to find him and bark happily. "You think this is a game, don't you?" he huffs.

The puppy drops down and wags her tail, *bark-bark*

"Yeah well, it's not." He pushes off the tree he'd hidden behind and stomps off through the woods. Yet, even without having to look, he knows the puppy is following close behind. Stopping one last time he looks down at her as she throws herself to his feet looking for attention.

As loud as she was being, barking and flopping around, it would be impossible to hunt with her around. "Well, come on I guess." He groans and turns back to head home. "I'll just have to try again tomorrow, after I figure out what to do with you."

Trekking back through the trees, the puppy stays in his shadow the whole way home. She follows him up the stairs of his house and in side without a moment's hesitation. Then when he put down a bowl of water for her, she quickly drank up half of it, and trotted over to the couch were he sat untying his boots, and dropped to the floor for a nice nap.

"Don't get to comfortable here, ya hear me." He places his boot to the side of the couch and takes out his phone, "This shits only temporary."

His first instinct is to call animal control to ask them to come get the pup. However, as he's looking up the number, he considers the fact that with her being a stray, they might put her down. While he didn't want her to stay with him, he certainly didn't want her euthanized either.

He needed a different plan.

"Maybe there's a pet shop that'll… oh, yeah…" He'd slaps his hand over his face.

He'd completely forgotten that the only pet shop in town, the one he'd only just recently learned about, was now a Dojo for Paul. "Maybe… no. I won't call him." He thinks slamming his phone down on the couch. "But then, well what the fuck am I supposed to do with you?" he asks the snoozing pup.

"It's not like I can call and ask him to take you in. Then again, it's not like I can ask anyone else." he sits back and groans while rubbing his temple, "What am I going to do."

Staring up at the ceiling, he weighs his options.

Option one; call animal control and hope for the best. She seems well behaved enough that they might try to adopt her out.

Option two; take her back out in the woods and leave her there. She is a dog after all, so after some time her instincts should kick in and she should be fine. "Key word should." He sighs.

Then there was option three; find someone willing to take her in. He figures he could make up some posters saying "Puppy found" or "Free to A Good Home" and post them around town. Though he has a feeling that as soon as he shows up to hand her over, they'd think the worst and change their mind. Not that he'd willingly put out his number like that anyway.

"But, if it was Paul," He thinks chewing on his lip, "he's bout the only one I'd trust."

He thinks about it for a few more minutes, before he feels it's his only option, and takes up his phone again.

Scrolling through his short list of contacts, he finds Paul's name and clicks it to call him. Then puts the phone to his ear and waits.

The line rings a few times before it clicks over and he hears a drowsy man answer, "*ahem* Hello?"

Daryl sits up and clears his throat, "Um hey, is this Paul?"

"Yeah, who is this?" he asks through a yawn.

"It's uh, Daryl." Why did he feel so stupid talking to him over the phone, and why was he suddenly burning up? "Did I wake you?"

"Daryl!" he hears some shuffling on the other end, followed by the ever chipper voice he'd recalled, "Um no, no, well… yeah you did but it's okay! I should have been up hours ago. But, um do you need something?"

"About that," he looks down at the puppy still laid down at his feet. "Do you like dogs?"

"Sure I love dogs! But why do you ask?"

"Well, I um, I found one and I don't know what to do with her."

"You found one?" he chuckles, "Where did you find a dog at?"

"Out in the woods." He explains, "I was out hunting when she just showed up. I made the mistake of feeding her and she followed me home."

Paul starts the laugh on the other end, "So she's taken up with you then is that it?"

"Yeah, but I don't really need or want a dog, it's just another mouth to feed in my option. So I was hoping you might want her or know someone who would."

"Oh, well, I'd love to take her, but my lease doesn't allow pets, and I'm too new to town to know if anyone is looking for a pet."

"I see." About that time, probably due to his talking aloud on the phone, the puppy wakes up and starts to wonder around the house. Daryl watches her for a second till Paul starts to talk again.

"Have you tried calling animal control?"

"Yeah, I thought about that too, but figured they'd probably put her down since she's a stray."

"Oh yeah, that's true."

"But if you can't-" A sound hits his ears and he twists around to see the puppy squatting in his kitchen floor and a growing pee puddle form under her, "Shit! Stop, stop! Don't do that in here!" he yells.

"Don't do what?" Paul asks, "Daryl? Daryl, what's going on?"

"Hold on a second, Paul, this fucking dog just pissed on my floor!" he fussed, though he can hear Paul laughing faintly as he puts the phone down.

Scooping the dog up, he rushes through the house and out the front door before sitting her on the porch. "This is where you piss! Out here! But from the size of that fucking shit in there, I'm guessing you're probably done by now, huh?" He asks her as she ignores him and sniffs about wagging her tail.

Her attention was soon caught by the shadow of a bird flying overhead and she took off trying to catch it. "Yeah, follow the fucking bird you, idiot!" he sighs stepping back in the house to clean up the mess she'd left.

Back in the kitchen, Daryl takes up the phone, "I'm back."

"Did she leave you a nice puddle?" Paul snickers.

"Puddle? It's like there's a fucking lake in my floor!" He fetches some towels and starts to clean it up before it starts to smell stinks up the house worse then what it already had. "Seriously, Paul, tell me you know someone who would want this dog."

"Why do you want to get rid of her? I mean, it seems like she's taken a liking to you, so why not keep her?"

Daryl walks the sopping towels outside to hose down before putting them in the wash. "And what use do I have with a dog?" he glances over and sees her circling around a few trees looking for the bird's shadow. "At least with one that thinks it can just piss buckets in my floor?"

"Well, you could train her not to do that." Paul chortled, "But you could also teach her to guard your house, or teach her to hunt with you, or just have her as a companion."

"I don't know." He postpones washing the towels for now and takes up a lawn chain in his yard. He then pulls out his pack of cigarettes, pops one in his mouth, and lights it. "She seems pretty stupid to me." He refers to how she's acting now over a stick that had popped up and hit her when she'd stepped on it. Barking at it like it was a snake about to strike again.

"Let me see her."

"What?" he asks before taking a drag.

"Send me a picture." He repeats, "I wanna see this dog that's got you so worked up."

"I aint worked up." He says blowing out smoke, "Just don't know what I'd do with a dog."

"Yeah, okay, whatever." He could hear Paul's eyes rolling from here, "Just send me the picture. If she's cute enough I might just take her." he sing-songs.

"God damn it… if it'll shut you up, hold on." Daryl switches over to the camera app on his phone. "Hey stupid!" She stops barking and looks up at him. "Get your pissy ass over here." Surprisingly, she does what he says, and bolts across the yard and up the stairs to him.

"Good, now hold still." He holds the phone up and takes a picture of her. Then, sends it to Paul without looking at it first. "There's your damn picture."

Thought the phone, he listens as Paul pulls the picture up and then hums in disapproval. "It's not really a good picture."

"What the hell you mean?" he grumbles around his cigarette, "It's a fucking picture ain't it?"

"Yeah, but not a good one. It's all blurry and out of focus. Like she moved right as you took it." He explained. "Try to get a better one. Maybe hold her so she'll stay still."

"Jesus fuc… hold on." This time he doesn't even call for her. He only needs to give a sharp whistle and she comes running. "Come here, gotta redo this shit cause Warhol over here says it's not good enough." He says loud enough for Paul to hear him.

Gently holding her by the back of the neck, he tries to get a good picture, but finds he's to close in this position. "I can't get zoomed out far enough this way!" he tells Paul, "It's like all I'm getting is her forehead."

"Well try switching your phone to selfie mode."

"To what?" he asks, plucking the cigarette from his mouth.

"The front camera, use the front camera."

Daryl shakes his head and pops his smoke back in his mouth. He then pulls down the phone and looks over the screen for the button he'd only ever accidently hit before and purposely presses it. The camera flips around and he sees his face in the phone now. "So that's what that shits for huh? Whatever, now hold still."

He extends his arm and lines it up the best he can and snaps the picture. This time though, he does look at it. He's a bit more in the picture then he'd like, but figures that this one will be good enough and sends it. "I'm in that one a little, but I aint taking anymore, so it will have to do."

He waits for a moment for Paul to say something about the quality of the picture, or about wanting the dog or not, but it doesn't come. "Ya there?" he asks the silence, "Paul!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here."

"Well, what do you think?"

"I think…" he stops and takes a deep breath, "I think she's a beautiful dog, and that you should keep her."

"What!" Daryl snaps, "That aint what I wanted to hear! I wanted to hear you say that you'd take her."

"Oh, well I done told you my lease wouldn't allow it."

"So you mean to tell me I wasted my time taking those pictures for nothing?" Paul starts to chuckle and Daryl decides he's had enough of his games, "Never mind, forget it! I'll figure it out on my own, thanks for nothing." He then hangs up without letting Paul say another word.

Sitting there on his porch, Daryl looks out at the pup as she sniffs around his yard. For a moment, he wishes he could read the minds of animals instead of humans, because maybe she could tell him where she'd come from and he could just return her there and be done with it. But like everything in his life, it wasn't going to be that easy for him.

Figuring he should get a busy rinsing out the towels, he stamps out his cigarette and goes to work, with the puppy following close behind.

Paul looks down at his phone and knows he's probably pissed Daryl off with his antics. Or at the very least greatly annoyed him, but in this moment, he didn't really care.

When he'd asked for a picture, he'd done it in an attempt to help Daryl find her a home. He not only wanted to see what the pup looked like, but was also going to use the picture so he could show people what she looked like. However, when he'd sent the first picture, it was really bad and blurry that it just wouldn't do.

Therefore, he harmlessly suggested taking another one.

It's not his fault that the one he'd get next would take his breath away and leave him speechless. Daryl was the one who sent it after all, so if anything, it was his fault. He's the one that looked good enough to eat showing off his bulging arm and teasing at a groin shot. No to mention the total bad boy look in his eyes while that cigarette hung dangerously close from falling from his lips.

It wasn't his fault for the way that Daryl made him feel.

So, Paul saves the stunning photo of Daryl at the dog he'd found, and saves the number Daryl called from, both with the promise of future use. Then heads to the bathroom to take care of some other things that weren't his fault


	4. Chapter 4

**Tranquility – Part 4**

"What - the - fuck did you do!?" Daryl stands frozen in his bedroom door way, staring at the state of his house.

He'd just woken up and found his house in turmoil. The trash can had been flipped over and its contents were strewn about between the kitchen and living room. On the couch were the chewed up remains of one of his shoes and a remote. The carpet was blotched with darker than normal stains and a couple sizeable mounds filled the room with a putrid smell.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" he annoyingly covers his face and sighs, "I should have just left you outside! Would have saved me the hassle of cleaning up after you and maybe you would of even gotten the hint and left!" He glances down at the pup clawing at his pajama pants and recalls why he'd let her in in the first place.

After hosing out the towels he'd started to clean up around the shop seeing as he now had the day free to do so. The pup stayed underfoot till she crawled up and fell asleep on the bench seat couch he had in there. About an hour or two later, a large clap of thunder bellowed out, and he'd run out to grab the towels off the porch rails, and ran inside just before the bottom opened up.

He'd honestly forgotten she was there for the longest time till in between a gust of wind and thunder, he'd heard her out there howling and whimpering. Peeking out a window, he'd seen she was sitting on the porch at the front door getting soaked in the downpour. He'd contemplated just leaving her out there, but when lightning filled the sky, and she whimpered out something pitiful, it tugged at his heart strings enough that he'd let her in.

Now though, he sees it was a mistake and he AGAIN had to clean up her mess.

Giving his leg a shake, he pushes her off and heads for the door, "Go on, get! Gotta 'nough in here to worry about without you adding to it." The puppy rushes out the door and Daryl slams it closed behind her. Turning back to the mess she'd left him, he groans and figures he'd start with the trash first.

Paul tried to recall the route Daryl had shown him to get to his house, but it had been so many weeks ago now, that he was having trouble remembering. He'd turned at the post office and headed out of town, but was looking for the road to take next. The one that would lead him up the mountains just before turning on to Daryl's drive way.

He'd caught himself a couple times almost sending him a text just asking, but he didn't want Daryl to know he was stopping by. So after reaching a gas station he KNOWS he didn't pass last time, he turns around and heads back down the road to look again.

"I know it was around here somewhere!" he says staring at the roads edge, looking for any sign of a hidden road he might have missed the first time around. "I should have looked at the road signs." He sighs.

Eventually, after heading down two roads he thought were it only to turn out not to be, he turns down a road that seems familiar. Not necessarily the scenery but the road itself. The turns it had cutting up the mountains brought back that feeling of wanting to be on a motorcycle.

"This is it… I can feel it." He says turning around a sharp bend. Slowing down when the scenery does look familiar, he spots a concealed dirt road he knows, and turns down it. A minute or two later he's pulling up at Daryl's house.

Parking out front like he'd done last time, he gets out of his car and looks around. "Daryl?" he calls out while opening his trunk and pulling out some items he'd brought. "Daryl you out here?"

*Bark-Bark* he hears coming from the below him.

"Well hello there beautiful!" he coos while dipping down to pet the pup who is circles around his hand trying to lick it, "My you are precious, aren't you?" He stands ups and grabs some of the things form his trunk, "Come on, let's got find Daryl."

The puppy takes off and runs up to the porch and starts scratching at the door. He follows with an arm full of things and hears a vacuum going inside. Situating the things in his hands, he knocks on the door the best he can, though its ends up only being a small thump. Nevertheless, it gains Daryl's attention, "FUCK OFF!"

Paul laughs, and gives the door a little kick to make a louder knock. The vacuum turns off and he hears someone stomping through the house. "I said fuck," the door is jerked open and Daryl jolts, and the pup runs in, "off… Paul? What the hell are you doing here?" he looks down at the things in his hands "And what the hell is all that?"

"Surprise!" He cheers, "I got you somethings for your new dog!" he holds the things out for Daryl to take.

But Daryl only looks over the things, then looks back at him; and if looks could kill, he'd be dead where he stood. "Go away!" He then turns to try and go back inside but Paul puts his foot in the way.

"Wait!" Daryl turns back and looks angrier then he'd ever seen, "I mean, I've already bought it and I have no use for it."

"That's not my fault. I didn't ask you to get any of this!"

"No, but you could at least use it till you found someone to take her." he pleads. "Then you can give it all to them or throw it out." Daryl resembles a bull about to charge and Paul fears he's over stepped some boundaries he didn't know about. Good thing he'd thought of a contingency plan. "I also have beer." He smiles shyly.

After a few seconds of silently staring, Daryl's expression softens a fraction and his shoulders drop. He gives a short huff before disappearing inside, leaving the door open behind him. Waiting a moment, Paul figures that's as good of a "Come in" as he's gonna get. So, he quickly steps in and sets the things down on the floor. "I'm gonna go get the rest of it and the beer."

"Rest of it?" he looks down at the multiple bags on his floor now, "What all did you get exactly?"

"Lets see, I got a collar, leash, wet dog food, and dry dog food because I wasn't sure what she could eat. I got a few bowls for water and food, a small collapsible kennel, a bed, puppy pads, some toys, some"

"Fuck did you just buy the whole store?"

"Well, if I'm honest, I didn't have to buy some of it." He admits, "The kennel, bed, bowls, toys, collar and leash were actually left behind after the pet store closed. They'd just been packed up and put in the back room for storage. I'd called the landlord and asked if I could have them and he said he didn't care because the old tenant had left them behind."

"And the rest of it?"

"That I did buy." He grins, "But it wasn't much so I don't mind." Daryl continues to stare at him with a look he can't read. Like a mix between annoyed and relived, that made him feel uneasy, but in a pleasant way. "Well, I'm gonna go grab the rest really quick."

Rushing out of the house, he stops by his car and has to literally scrub the grin off his face. "Oh my god, get a grip!" he tells himself, "You blushing like that is gonna tip him off." He rubs his hands over his cheeks again till it stings and he's sure he's pulled some of his beard out. "Alright, deep breath. You're just going to have a few beers and then be on your way. No funny business."

Taking a few deep breaths, he calms his nerves, gathers up the last of the bags from his trunk, then walks back in the house.

Once back inside, he sees Daryl's returned to cleaning, but not with the vacuum like before. He was on his hands and knees scrubbing a spot on the carpet. "Did you spill something?" he asks while dropping the last of the things to the floor with the rest.

Daryl grunts at the stain, then sits back on his heels, "I'd let the ungrateful mutt stay in last night since it was raining, and for a thank you, I woke up to find my house in turmoil." He points around the room to various spots, "Shit and piss all over, trash all over here, and my remote and one of my shoes chewed up on the couch there." He sighs and brushes his hair out of his face, "I've been cleaning all morning and haven't had time to eat anything."

"I'll cook for you!" Paul blurts out before thinking. "I mean, if you're alright with it. You can finish cleaning what you need to, and I'll make you some breakfast."

Daryl doesn't look back at him, "No that's fine. I'm bout done anyway." He rocks back on to his feet, rises up, and steps in to the kitchen.

"Oh, well, okay." He looks down disappointed, "I'll just start pulling all this out for you."

"Alright," Daryl mumbles while washing off the scrub brush in the sink.

Paul sits down on the floor and starts to rummage through the bags. While he works, the puppy shows up from where ever she'd been in the house and sits next to him to observe.

When he pulls out he collar, he tears in to the package and puts it around her neck. "There. Now you look like a proper pet." He tells her with a pet. "How about a toy girl? Would you like a something to play with then a stinky shoe?" He starts looking through each bag for the one that has the toys.

Once he's found it, he dumps it out on the floor for her to have her pick. She sniffs each one carefully before taking a flatten stuffed animal looking one that had a braided rope for a tail, and a squeaky part in the middle, and running off. "Looks like she's picked a winner." He says to no one.

"Good, maybe that'll save my shoes." Daryl says walking up to hand him one of the beers he'd brought. "I'd put the rest in the fridge before they get hot."

"Oh, yeah, good point." He sets the bottle aside and gets up to put the rest in the fridge. When he turns around to get back to work, he finds Daryl taking one of the cans of wet dog food and opening it then dumping it in to one of the bowls sitting on the floor. He then clicks his tongue a few times and the pup comes running out from her hiding spot.

Using the bowl of food, he leads her in to the kitchen and sets it down for her to eat in there, before leaving and sitting on the couch. After watching him, Paul hurries to grab the other bowl and fills it with water and puts it down next to where Daryl had sat the food bowl. He then goes to get his beer he'd left on the floor and opens it.

"You can sit down, you know." Daryl says again without looking at him. "It's creepy you just standing there."

"Oh, sorry," Paul sits back down on the floor where he'd been originally and Daryl quirks a brow, "What?"

"I meant a chair."

"Oh." Paul chuckles, "Yeah I know, but I said I'd put this together for you, and it's easier to do that down here."

"Suit yourself." He mumbles against the mouth of the bottle. Paul chortles and gets to work on opening the collapsible kennel's box and fishing out all the parts and instructions.

As he works on the kennel, Daryl switches between watching him and the tv, while the puppy switches between toys. After 15 or 20 minutes, he has the kennel set up with the bed inside it. "There, all finished." He says proudly. "That should help the keep the messes to a minimum, along with these." He lays out some puppy pads at the front and back door and then steps back for Daryl took look it over.

"Looks good." He nods, "Thanks."

Paul blusters and grins brightly, "No need to thank me. I just thought having all this would help you till you find her a home." He moves to sit on the love seat next to the couch. "So, have you thought of a name?"

"Why would I name her if I aint gonna keep her?" he questions.

"Well, for starters, it would make it easier to get rid of her if she has a nice name she already responded to." He points out, "Also, it would help when you try to teach her basic skills, you know, in, out, crate, fetch, sit, all that. Again adding to her appeal for future owners looking for a dog." He takes a sip of his beer while watching Daryl out of the corner of his eye. "But mostly, calling her "dog" or "puppy" or whatever, is impersonal. Just seems better, to me, for her to have a name."

Daryl sits there stroking his thumb over the label on his beer. "Riley," he whispers.

"Riley?" Paul repeats to mull it over, "Yeah I like it. It's short at sweet, but sounds like it's a name that's full of life and personality."

"It's just a name." he says unimpressed.

"Maybe now, but she'll make it her own, I promise you."

"Yeah, whatever you say."

After that, they sat there quietly drinking and watching tv while Riley got used to all the new things Paul had brought her.

For a short while, Paul felt the need to fill the silence with small talk, but after a few minutes, he'd grown content with the quietness between them. It wasn't really awkward, or weird just sitting there, but it did fill him with a sense of peace that was unusual so soon after meeting him.

The longer they sat, the more that peace grew.

The more the peace grew, the more in trouble he felt.

Like the calm before the storm. The storm being his own self-doubt and lack of self control.

 _"I should tell him,"_ he thinks " _I should tell him now that way if he finds it disgusting I can know and move on, before I really start to fall."_ He starts to worry about what he'd do if that were the case.

Last time he mistakenly fallen for a guy it nearly ended in a fight. The only reason it hadn't was because the guy knew he was a black belt and would probably whoop him. Yet he'd made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that if he ever saw him again, he wouldn't let that stop him and he'd have help. One guy, even two he could handle, but there was just no telling how much "help" he'd have, and the idea of looking over his shoulders the rest of his life was none to appealing, so Paul just left town.

He came here to start new and with a clean slate, but not even 2 months after moving, he's falling back in to the same route.

 _"Maybe it's best if I just keep my mouth shut this time. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."_ He reasons, " _but what if he figures it out and gets mad?"_ Paul glances over at his relaxed form on his couch. " _He's a different type of man all together. Hunting his own food, living off the land, that wild part crazed look he gets sometimes; he could actually hurt me if he wanted to."_

"Hey," Paul jerks from his thoughts startled by Daryl's voice, "Not to be rude, but shouldn't you be going? I mean, its 10 o'clock, don't you have class to teach?" Daryl asks, looking back at him.

Paul looks at the clock on the wall and chuckles nervously, "Well, normally yes, but on Friday's I'm closed. So, no, I don't have to teach today, but if you want me to go," he starts to push himself up and out of the chair.

"That aint what I meant," Daryl grumbles, "I was … just making sure."

He relaxes back in to the chair, "So… you're alright if I stay a little bit longer?"

Daryl shrugs, and takes a sip.

 _"Can I stay forever? No don't say that" -_ "Okay well, if you want me to go just say so, I don't want to bother you."

"To late for that." Daryl groans as he gets up. He takes his bottle and Paul's despite the fact it still had some in it and goes to the fridge, "but you're here, and you got me all that shit for the dog, and you brought the beer," he brings back an extra beer for him as well, "so I can at least let you stay for a little while."

Paul looks down at the fresh beer and smirks. "Well, thanks for putting up with me then, I guess."

"Your welcome, now shut up and let me watch my movie."

Gazing over at him, he feels at ease again. Things were moving along nicely in spite of his eagerness to speed it up. Would they get that point? He didn't know, but this right here was nice enough to keep him satisfied for now. So, there wasn't a need to ruin it.

With a shake of his head, Paul opens the beer and takes a sip.


	5. Chapter 5

**Tranquility – Part 5**

Daryl laid back on his couch trying to ignore the intruder, Paul, who was currently rolling around on his floor with the dog he'd found in the woods. They were fighting over some toy he'd brought for her to play with and seemed to be having a good time. Which he wouldn't mind it so much if they weren't being so loud about it.

"Do you think you could be a little quitter?" he fusses without looking away from the tv for too long.

"Sorry," Paul chuckles and tosses the toy for Riley to fetch. Then stands up to reclaim his seat he'd abandoned earlier, "she's got a ton of energy."

"Well she is a puppy."

"Yeah I know," he pants, and takes the toy back from Riley, only to throw it again, "but it's been a while since I've played with one."

"Is that so?" he sips off his beer trying to act uninterested, but can't help notice how happy he seems.

"Yeah, I was never allowed to have one growing up because my mom was allergic to them. So the only time I got to play with one was when I'd go to my friend's house." He stops and starts to laugh, "Even now that I've moved out I still have to go to someone else's house to see a dog, crazy huh?"

"I guess." He sighs.

His irritation wasn't genuine, and in truth, he didn't know why he was being so rude to Paul, but it felt like the right thing to do; to keep him at a distance for his protection and Paul's. Even now he relishing in the fact that he could hear his movie for once instead of the old couple down the road complain about their pains. Even still, a part of him wanted to tell Paul to leave him alone, and to stop just showing up at his house; but an even bigger part of him wanted him to stay.

 _"Why am I so torn over what to do with him?"_ he wonders.

"Do you normally watch movies like this?" Paul asks him.

"What?" he glances back just as what he'd asked registered with him, "Oh, the movie. Yeah, I mean, I guess; it's really all I have. I don't really have Cable or anything, so I just watch whatever movies I buy and it's typically action movies."

"I see, so you like action and adventure. I like romantic comedies myself." He admits, "You get some laughs along with the love story and they typically leave all the heartbreaks stuff out."

"I wouldn't know;" he sips off his beer, "I don't go for those kind of movies."

"Well, what if I bring you some to borrow. Who knows, you might find some you like and broaden your interest some."

"Umm, sure, thanks" he agrees though he doesn't really think he'll enjoy them.

"No problem, after all, it's what friends do."

"What?" Daryl glares, "What did you just say?"

"Oh, well, I mean, I know it's early and all, but I just," Paul flusters and looks away, "I thought we both agreed we got along, so I just assumed that"

"We're friends?"

"Well, yeah," he shrugs, "but 'acquaintance' works too if you think the word friend is to,"

"Nono, no that's not what I mean," he sits up and stares at the table for a moment. "What I mean is, you consider me," he looks back at Paul completely confused and lost, "a friend?"

"Oh, well, yeah; don't you?"

"To be honest," he rubs his arm nervously, "I hadn't given it much thought. Actually, I found it odd that you seemed so thrilled to hang out with me in the first place."

"Oh," Paul looks disappointed, "I see."

"Not that it's bad, just that many, well most people don't."

"Don't what?"

"Want to, do this," he motions between them, but Paul just frowns at him still confused and slightly hurt, "Look," he sighs and tries to collect his thoughts, "I'm uh, I'm not good at-"

"Relationships?" he whispers.

"People." Daryl quickly corrects, knowing how pathetic what he's about to say will sound, "I'm not good with people. I mean I've never… I've never had what you'd call a "friend"."

"Never?" Paul gasped, and he nods, "I mean I knew you didn't like people, but seriously, you never had one friend?" he shakes his head, "Not even as a kid?"

"Outside my brother, no." he admits.

"That's,"

"Pathetic, yeah, I know." He grumbles and falls back ashamed he'd admitted it.

"No, that's not what I was going to say," he sighs while shaking his head, "I was gonna say it's tragic." Shocked, Daryl looks up at him, "To grow up never having a friend, it's tragic." Paul looks up with tears in his eyes, "I'm sorry you had to endure that, it must have been lonely."

Daryl's face starts burn and he has to look away. He can't look at him while he's crying. Why that is, he's not sure but he knows he doesn't like it; it irks him. "Just, stop, okay."

"What?"

"That," he flips his hand in Paul's direction without looking at him, "stop that, the crying."

"Oh, sorry." Paul wipes his face on his sleeve. "I get emotional kinda easily."

"I just don't see why your crying; it has nothing to do with you really."

"Well, I mean, you're right it doesn't, but I still care; about you."

"Care?" he shakes his head and scoffs, "How can you say you care when you don't even know me that well?" - _Why am I getting so upset?-_ "I mean you've only seen me 4 times, four times in a two-month period."

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter," he chuckles nervously, "Time isn't really a factor in things like this. It's more about how, how you feel," He taps his chest weekly, "in here."

"How you feel? That makes no sense." He fusses, "You have to know someone before you know you care about them, much less consider them a friend."

"So, are you saying," he pauses and looks away, "are you saying you don't consider me a friend?"

He sits there for a moment thinking.

From the look on Paul's face he knew this meant more to him then he thought. Maybe, he'd been wrong in his assumptions, but it doesn't seem plausible to him to consider someone a friend when you don't know them. Then again, he'd never been close to any one so how would he know what's appropriate in situations like this.

"I see." Paul mumbles, "Well, I guess I better go." He stands up and takes his beer in the kitchen.

"What?" he looks of from the table he was staring at, "What do you mean."

He gathers up his things and give Riley a pat on the head, "Sorry, I bothered you, I'll be sure not to do it again."

"What, no that's not-" the door closed behind him before he could finish what he was trying to say. "Damn it." He mumbles as he jumps up and rushes after him. - _Why am I do this? -_ He opens the door expecting to see Paul still walking to his car but he was already in the car and cranking it up.

"Paul wait a second." He calls out but Paul doesn't hear him, or ignores him and drives off before he makes it off the porch.

With a sigh, he watches Paul leave in a cloud of dust, feeling frustrated he didn't get to explain himself. _"I hope he's not mad."_ \- "Wait!" He shakes his head violently, "Why do I care? This is exactly what I was talking about, and what I was trying to avoid."

Turning on his heels he heads back to the house where Riley sits by the door whining. "Come on, he's gone now, let's go in." he tells her.

She looks out at the driveway, gives another wine, then turns to go back inside. He follows her in and closes the door behind them.

Now that he was alone again, he starts cleaning up again. Even though there wasn't much to clean besides the bottles he'd left on the table and the dog toys Riley had strewn about. So, within 3 minutes he was done and laying back on the couch to resume the movie he'd left playing.

However, he found it hard to focus on the movie as his mind was elsewhere.

Paul looked really hurt and upset when he left, but he didn't leave him any time to explain. If he'd just waited and let him think, then he could have explained that though he wasn't as sure as Paul was in his feelings, didn't mean he wasn't willing to give it a try. That maybe, in time, they could be friends.

Now, he was mad or upset or whatever, and probably never going to talk to him again. So, even if they weren't friends, or were, he'd fucked it up and lost the closest chance at one he'd ever have.

And that, stung.

He hated people that much was sure. They were compulsive and irrational, thinking savage, offensive, and disgusting thoughts. Eager to make snap judgments and defend them to the death despite facts to prove them wrong. Scared of anything they didn't understand and unwilling to learn.

But Paul, he was different. He at least like Paul.

Paul didn't see him as lunatic like the rest of them. He didn't care if he was a recluse or a hated by virtually every one. He just wanted to befriend some guy he'd ran in to, shared a lunch and some beers with, and he, "I turned him away, just like they world did me. Oh, no…" he groans and sits up to get his phone, "I gotta fix this."

Flipping through his phone, he finds Paul's number and taps it.

The phone rings, and rings, and rings, till the voice mail recording starts _, "Hey, you've reached Paul. I can't answer my phone right now, so just leave a message at the beep."_ *Beep*

"Um, hey Paul, it's- it's me, Daryl," he sighs and pinches his brow, "Look, you ran out before I could explain, I um, I didn't, ugh…. Never mind, this is stupid." He hangs up the phone and tosses on to the couch.

"Remember, this is what you wanted." He tells himself while going to grab another beer.

He wanted Paul to leave him alone so his life could go back to normal, and now it will. Paul will avoid him like the plague, just like the rest of them, and in time they will forget and everything will be back to how it should be. Just like he wanted.

"Life goes on," he opens his beer and relaxes on the couch.

~*~ 3 Days Later ~*~

Paul reluctantly got ready for the day after spending the last 2 crying on his couch and watching rom-coms.

He'd should have known something like this would happen, it always did. He'd even tried to prepare himself for it, but to be shut down and told he wasn't even considered a friend, if anything he was thought of as a nuisance, was a whole new low for him.

"Why do I always fall for the assholes?" he asks himself as he starts to look for his phone.

He looks on the table and around on the floor; it wasn't there.

He looks in the couch and under it; wasn't there either.

He starts looking through-out the apartment. In the kitchen, his bed room, the bathroom, even goes through the laundry to check the clothes he was wearing the other day, but he can't find it anywhere. "When was the last time I remember seeing it?" he ponders.

"Let's see, I ordered pizza with it didn't I?" he thinks back, "No I used the house phone, wait the house phone, I can call it!"

Trotting to the kitchen he takes the apartment's phone off the receiver and dials his number. It goes straight to voice mail and he hang up the phone. "Damn it! Okay, back to figuring out where I last used it."

He back tracks his steps over the last few days and comes up empty handed. His phone wasn't anywhere in his house, "Maybe It's in my car, at least I hope it is. The last thing I need is, no, don't even think about him." He grabs his keys, locks up the apartment, and heads down stairs to the car.

Taking a moment, he looks around in his car but doesn't find it there either. "Damn it…" he gets in the car and heads to the dojo.

As he drives he recalls the last time he knows for a fact he saw his phone. It was at Daryl's. He was playing with Riley and took a picture of her and him together. He must have set it on his coffee table or something, and in his rush to get out of there, left it.

For a moment, he considers just cutting his losses and getting a new phone. Then he thinks about the hassle it would be text every one and tell them the new number. Not to mention having to reprint all the business cards and flyers he had printed with the current number.

He rolls his eyes and groans, "Guess I'll gave to bite the bullet and go back for it after work." It was going to be awkward, but he'd couldn't afford it to pay for reprints and for a new phone. Plus, maybe he could get some sort of closure.

Pulling in to the parking lot of the dojo, he gets out and drops his keys in shock, "Daryl?" He gasps, noticing Daryl's truck parked across the parking lot and the man himself sitting on the tail gate. "Daryl, what the hell are you doing here?"

Daryl slips off the tail gate of his truck and steps over to him, "I uh found this when I was cleaning up a mess Riley made." He hands over Paul's cell phone.

"T-thank you." He shies away, "You didn't have to bring it to me. I was planning on coming to get it later today."

"Yeah, well, I needed to get some things for Riley anyway."

"Oh yeah? And how is she?"

"She's um fine I guess. Still chewing on things she shouldn't be."

"What happen to the toys?"

"She still has 'em but I guess she prefers shoes."

Paul chuckles, "Sorry about that, but maybe you can get some old ones from the thrift store just for her, then she'll leave yours alone."

"Yeah maybe."

An uncomfortable silence grows and Paul wonders if he should just tell Daryl how he feels. The relationship was already ruined and he had no chance of moving on if he still harbored feelings toward the man who didn't care for him.

"Look, Daryl, I need to confess-"

"There's something I wanted to-"

They stop, and stare at each other, both waiting for the other to start.

"Well I was just gonna say-"

"Okay, so the other day-"

"Look, you just go ahead," Paul tells him. "Mine's not that important anyway."

"Okay, well, the other day, you left before I could explain. Then I tried to call you but you didn't answer,"

"Because I left my phone at your house."

"Right, I know that now, but then, I didn't." he sighs, "anyway, it left a bad taste in my mouth that you weren't answering my calls."

"Calls?"

"Yeah, calls." He repeats, "I tried to call you once right after you left, but when you didn't answer I tied to just forget it. Forget you."

"Wow, thanks." Paul scoffs and crosses his arms.

"But that didn't work either." Daryl chews on his lip nervously and stares at the ground, "All weekend long, all I could think about was how I'd been a dick to you when you didn't deserve it. How you've been nothing but nice to me and how I treated you like the world treats me. So I kept trying to call you to explain, but then you wouldn't answer,"

"Because I couldn't,"

"And it kept calling hoping you'd finely answer."

"And how many times did you call?"

"I don't know, 5 maybe 6 times." He shrugs, "but I stopped when I found it last night and realized it been at my house the whole time, but the point is, that made me see that I was wrong, okay. I wasn't being honest with you or myself."

Paul's heart starts to race, "Wha- what do you mean?"

"I mean with whatever this is going on between us." He admits, "I thought since I couldn't hear you, that I should stay away from you. That you were dangerous for me in the since that if I got used to the quietness and something happened to you and it was gone, that I would go insane. I also was worried that because I couldn't hear your thoughts, that I would never know what you were thinking or how you really felt."

"Woah, woah, wait, slow down." Paul waves his hands in the air, "You're not making any sense. What do you mean "hear my thoughts"?"

"Well, I don't know why, but I can't hear your thoughts."

"You say that like you can read thoughts."

"Because, normally I can."

"Right, but not mine?" Paul starts to fear the others of the town might have been right. Maybe Daryl was just a crazy wild man. "Look, I um gotta go okay. Gotta open up shop and, you know, do my job."

Daryl sighs, "You think I'm crazy now don't you?"

"Nono, nono, not at all, I just, really have to unlock the door for the, um people waiting." He starts to back up fearing that Daryl might have an outburst and attack him like the mothers said he was prone to do.

"I'm not crazy," he says looking away. "I thought that if anyone would understand it would be you."

"And I do, but like I said,"

"You gotta open the door, yeah I know, whatever." He turns around and starts to walk away.

Paul keeps his eyes locked on Daryl as he gets in to his truck and drives away. Once he's out of sight, he lets out a breath, "Good lord, that was close." He looks down at his phone and figures it might be best if he does change his number after all; or a the very least, block Daryl.

"I'll call my service provider later." He decides as he heads inside the dojo; remember to check the locks behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

After double checking the locks, Paul plugged his cell phone in to the extra charger he kept at work. He waited till the little light flashed, signaling it was charging properly, then started to get ready for the day's classes. The tedious tasks of getting everything ready for his first class was usually enough to clear his mind of whatever he was thinking about, but he'd never had something this unusual to fill his mind.

"There has to be something seriously wrong with Daryl for him to think he could read minds. Schizophrenia maybe, or some other psychotic disorder which causes him to have auditory hallucinations." He thinks as he drags out the mats. "Doesn't mean his necessarily dangerous, he just needs the right medication, that's all."

Paul quickly starts to feel bad about how he acted toward Daryl in the parking lot. Now, he probably saw him as just another two faced ass hole like he does all the others in town; not that he could blame him, he had been a total jerk. "I should apologize." He figures as he unlocks the front door letting in the early comers.

"Welcome back, everyone. Class will start in a few minutes," He tells the few students before going to the back to finish getting ready. "I'll be back in a moment, so just pair up and do your stretches." Stepping in his office, he closes the door and starts to change.

While he dresses, he hears his phone start to sound off, alerting him to all the notifications he'd missed. Tugging his shirt over his head, he then steps over to the table and starts to read through them.

There were a total of 6 missed calls; 5 were from Daryl and one from his apartment where he'd tried to call it this morning, 4 voice mails and 16 texts messages. Most of those were also from Daryl with only a couple from the few friends he'd kept in touch with from home. He wouldn't be able to focus on teaching knowing that all that was on his phone, so he chooses to read and listen to all of them now before his first class.

The first thing he done was clear the voice mails.

 _-"Um, hey Paul, it's- it's me, Daryl. *sigh* Look, you ran out before I could explain, I um, I didn't, ugh…. Never mind, this is stupid."_ He can't help but chuckle at how awkward he sounds.

 _-"Hey, could you at least, you know, let me know that you didn't die. I mean you, left so fast, and the road back down the mountain is dangerous at high speeds. Just wanna know if I should go looking for your car off a cliff side_." Paul rolls his eyes, but grins none the less.

-" _Okay look, this is getting annoying, just answer my calls or texts already_."

-" _Damn it Paul_!"

"The last one wasn't even him talking in to the phone," Paul thinks, "it's like it just picked up is frustrated rant as he was hanging up the phone. Oh well," He deletes all the messages and moves on to reading the 16 text messages.

A few of the messages were from some friends of his from back home that he'd kept in contact with. Mostly just asking how he was doing or continuing a conversation they had already had going. So he sent each of them a quick reply and then started to read the one that were from Daryl.

 _\- Hey, Paul call me when you get this._

 _\- You left before I could say what I needed to say_

 _\- least let me know you made it home safely_

Those all were sent shortly after he'd left Daryl's or later that same night.

 _-Look since you're not going to answer my calls I guess I'll just have to say what I was going to say on here._

 _-Like I told you, I never had anyone close enough to consider a friend, mainly because they were always scared of my family or me and just avoided me altogether. My family always had a bad rep when it came to dealing with other people, be it fights or threats it didn't matter. So by the time I came along I was already marked as a trouble maker based off my brother and my father's actions. Then, around the time I was 7 or 8 I figured out that I was cursed with something else besides the Dixon name._

 _-I know it's gonna sound insane, but what I'm about to say is completely true…._

 _-I can hear people's thoughts. Now, I know if your reading this you're probably thinking I'm crazy but like I said it's the truth._

Paul groans and rolls his eyes but keeps reading.

 _-As far as I can tell, anyone within 100 feet of me I can hear. It's been like that since I was a child and over the years I've grown as used to it as I can without really going crazy. Even still, my name plus this ability… you can see why I never had friends._

 _-Then, you ran in to me that day a month or so ago and something amazing happened. It was quite. Never in all my years with this ability have I meet a person I couldn't hear, and it wasn't just that I couldn't hear your thoughts, I couldn't hear ANYONES! For the first time in as far back as I can remember, I heard nothing. There was no one else in my head besides me, and it was bliss. Despite that though, I tried to avoid you because you … you scare me._

He reads that last part over again, "he was scared of me? Why?"

 _-I'd never meet someone I wasn't able to hear so suddenly finding someone I couldn't made me fear what that meant you were. Were you like me and we just voided each other out, or were you something different, something dangerous for mean for me. Either way, I thought it best it I never saw you or talked to you again._

 _-but you… you were so persistent. The next day when I came to your job, I was only trying to see if it was a fluke from you running in to me or something more. You saw me and invited me to lunch and I felt like I had to say yes. Then when my truck was broken down you insisted on driving me home then proceeded to leave your number. Making it more and more difficult to say no to you._

 _-Then yesterday you said we were friends and I panicked again. Not because I didn't want it to be true, but because I didn't know if I could trust you. Without being able to hear your thoughts, I have no idea what you really think of me. If you had any ulterior motives, or if you were just playing me for a fool. But I get now that, that's what being friends is about right? Trusting each other? Being there for whatever reason?_

 _-Anyway, I just wanted to say I'm sorry and that I'm willing to give this friendship a chance if you are._

Paul sat in his office shaking out of fear, or maybe nervous energy, he didn't know for sure. What he did know was that Daryl was serious about his belief in his so called ability. His messages also showed him that he might have had some childhood reasoning behind them that stuck around decades later. Like a coping mechanism he never out grew.

Either way, Paul didn't think he had any real reason to fear Daryl. He seemed sincere in his messages that he wanted to apologize so it gave him hope. That maybe, he ready and that Paul could help him get over his childhood trauma and Daryl could lead a normal life.

"Mr. Rovia?" Paul jumps, dropping his phone on his desk, and looks up to see a student standing in the door way, "Everyone's here and ready."

"Oh yes, thank you Jason." He stands up and gathers up his hair, then scrunches it up in to a messy bun. With it tied back and out of his way, he follows the boy out of the office and in to the main room where everyone was waiting. "Let's get started then."

Daryl barreled down the road furious that he'd let himself fall so low.

He'd said if from the beginning, it was a bad idea to get close to this guy, but he'd let down his guard and a deadly feeling crept in.

Hope.

He'd hoped this guy would be different, that he wouldn't care about who or what Daryl was and he could have just one-damn-person.

One person that he could have a normal conversation with if he felt like it.

One person he didn't have to worry about blocking out every second of every day.

One person that gave a damn about him and didn't curse his very existence!

But that hope quickly soured, but not before it turned to a yearning for more. Like a drug, he'd gotten a taste and he was hooked. Addicted to the little things Paul could offer him; peace and serenity. An oasis in the madness, a drop of water in the desert.

Paul offered him salvation.

Daryl struck his steering wheel with the palm of his hand and cursed himself, "God damn it! – I'm such a fucking idiot!" He turns off the highway and starts to head up the mountain side. "Shoulda fucking listened to myself! Shoulda stayed away from his ass and just lived my life like I had been."

The more he thought about it the more frustrated he got. Yet, the nail in the coffin wasn't the fact it blown up in his face like he'd known it would, but the fact that he'd let himself trust Paul enough to tell him the truth. He told him the truth about his powers and Paul …

He bit his lip and swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought about the way Paul looked at him. "Just like they all do. Oh well," He sniffles and clears his throat, "fuck him."

Turning in to his driveway he makes a quick decision to head out for a hunt to clear his head.

Stepping in the house, Riley instantly attacks him, jumping up and barking playfully, but he ignores her for the most part. "Riley down, stop it, damn it move!" he pushes past her and goes in to his room to get ready.

After quickly packing an overnight bag, just in case, he sets Riley up in the small kennel Paul had brought him that fateful day. He gives her plenty of food and water to last her a few hours and if need be the night. Along with the bed and some toys to make it more comfortable.

With her set up to stop her from destroying the house while he was away, Daryl locked up the house, and walked out in to the woods of the mountain.

Daryl stops and leans against a tree to take a breath and a sip of water. He then takes a moment to check over the makeshift sled he'd built to haul the buck he'd killed to make sure it was holding together. It wasn't made of anything more than some large branches and rope he'd brought, but it was the best way, and the only way, for him to lug larger kills back home.

After taking a few more minutes to catch his breath, he gets back up, picks up the makeshift sled, and starts to drag it through the woods again.

It takes a few hours to drag the carcass down the mountain and back home. When he finely breaks out of the trees and in to the clearing where his house was, over joyed. The hunting trip ended up taking longer than he'd expected but it was well worth it for the size of the deer he'd brought home.

He drops the deer off in front of the garage, then heads inside to clean off and let Riley out of the kennel.

As soon as he unlocks the door and steps in, he's hit with the stench of dog poop. "Oh, damn!" he groans and covers his nose. "Damn girl, I'm sorry," leaving the door wide open he rushes to let the whining dog out of the cage. "I know, I'm sorry! I didn't expect it to take two days." The gate swings open and the pup runs straight out side, leaving him with the mess in the kennel.

Taking a glance inside, he decides its best to just hose it down outside instead of trying to clean in by hand. So he drags it outside and spots Riley sniffing around his kill. "Riley! No!" he drops the kennel in the doorway and runs toward the garage and chances her off.

Knowing he couldn't just leave the deer on the ground he sighs and starts to string it up in the normal spot, before going back to dragging the kennel out of the house.

While he cleans out the soiled kennel, Riley barks and yips at the hanging meat above her. Daryl chuckles and continues his work.

Once he was done with Riley's mess, he steps inside and washes his hands thoroughly. He then goes back out to start working on the deer.

Riley was still sniffing around beneath the deer but moved aside when he came closer. "Don't worry you'll get a bone or something." He tells here as he starts to work at bleeding and then skinning the deer.

Over the next couple of hours, Daryl works at cleaning the deer and prepping the meat while Riley tries her best to run off with a piece of the deer every chance she gets. Every so often he'd cut off a small sliver of meat and toss it to her to keep her satisfied and out of his way. Eventually though, she gets restless and tries to grab a larger piece out of the waste bucket.

"Riley, no!" he fusses, but she ignores him and still stands up to look in to the bucket, "Riley, I said no!" he waves his hand in her direction to shoo her away, but instead he ends up startling her, causing her to inadvertently flip the bucket, spilling the contents on the floor.

"Aw God damn it!" he groans jumping back to avoid the splash back of blood and guts. "Damn it Riley!" he looks around to see she's run off. Shaking his head, he turns back to finish prepping the meat before it starts to spoil. "I'll just have to fucking clean it up later."

However, before he can seal up any more meat, he hears a car come to a stop outside and the door open then close. Curious as to who in the hell it was showing up unannounced, steps over to the open garage door to investigate.

"Oh, of course." He rolls his eyes and frowns, as Paul walk up to his front door. "Hey!" he calls out to Paul, who turns to look at him before he has a chance to knock.

"Oh, there you are," he turns around and starts back down the steps and Daryl disappears back in to the garage to continue what he was doing.

"What the hell do you want." He asks as Paul steps in, "Figured after out last talk, you wanted nothing to do with me."

"Well, I wouldn't say that but," he stopped short and look of terror comes over him, "What is that?"

"What?"

"That," Paul points at the ground and Daryl looks down at the mess of blood on his floor, "Is that, oh my God, is that blood?"

"Oh, that." He groans, "Yeah, that's what happened when Riley didn't listen to me."

"WHAT!" Paul yells unexpectedly making Daryl jump, "You mean… that's…. Riley?!"

"What?!" Daryl looks down at the mess and the back at the shell-shocked Paul, "are you crazy!" But Paul doesn't stick around to listen.

He slowly backs up a few steps, then takes off full force out of the garage yelling "RILEY! COME HERE GIRL!" Groaning, Daryl finishes bagging up the meat in his hand then follows him out, "Riley! Riley where are you, girl!"

"Hey," Daryl stomps toward him, "would you keep it down."

"You!" Paul whips around and points an accusing finger at him, "What did you do to her?"

"Me?" he glares at him offend that he thinks he'd do anything to that dog, "I didn't do anything, she's the one who wouldn't get out of the bucket when I told her to."

"What?"

*Bark-Bark*

They both turn around to see Riley come running out from behind the greenhouse, legs covered in blood. "Riley!" Paul drops down and the pup rushes in to his arm, "Oh, I was so worried!"

"See, she's fine."

"But, that blood…" Paul continues to pet the excited Riley "and you said…"

"I said that it happened when she didn't listen to me." Daryl repeats, "I was tossing scraps of meat and bones in the bucket and she kept trying to jump in it to steal some. She ended up knocking it over just before you got here so I haven't cleaned it up yet. Not my fault you wanna jump to conclusions."

Paul frowns, "I'm sorry. I just saw her kennel out here, and then with that in there," he shook his head, "I just assumed,"

"Yeah, well maybe you should stop assuming things." He grunts, "What are you doing here anyway."

"Oh yeah," Paul stands up from petting Riley, "Well, I'd tried calling you but you never answered me."

He chuckles, "Sucks don't it."

"What?"

"Being ignored," he scoffs, "nothing like a taste of your own medicine."

"But, I didn't have my phone, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, and I didn't have mine either," Daryl huffs, "and even if I did, I doubt I would of answered it."

"What? Why not?"

"I out was hunting."

"For two days?" he asks doubtfully.

"Caught the trail and didn't wanna lose it." He shrugs, "When I got back, Riley had shit all in her kennel, so I brought it out here to clean it."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"I know it does." Daryl turns around and start back toward the garage, "Now if that's it, you know the way out."

"Actually, that's not it." Paul calls out, so Daryl stops and looks back at him, "I wanted to talk to you about what you'd said the other day, and the messages."

"What about it."

"Well, for starters," Paul creeps closer but Daryl notices he still keeps his distance, "I wanna help you."

"Help?" Daryl scoffs and turns away, "please…"

"Yes, I want to help you." Paul explains following close behind him.

"I don't need your help, not that you could help anyway."

"Then we'll find a therapist who can,"

"Why? So they can tell me it's all in my head, and force countless un-namable pills down my throat like the others did? No thanks."

"What?"

"Oh yeah, I've done been down that road. So thanks, but no thanks." Daryl tells him, and Paul glares at him silently demanding to know more.

Aggravated, Daryl begins fidget around and wonders if he should tell Paul everything or just tell him to fuck off. It'd been only two days since he'd told him the truth about his ability and he didn't appear to believe him then, so why would now be any different? Then again, Paul did come back, so maybe there was still a chance to make him believe.

With a sigh, he moves to sit on the bench seat, "When the teachers noticed I was different, that I heard things no one else did or possibly could, the called the school shrink. When she couldn't figure me out, she sent me to see the big guys at the hospital. When they questioned me, I naively thought I could trust them, so I told them the truth; that I could hear what I thought was people around me talking when they weren't."

"And what did they say?"

He gives a dry laugh and rubs his hands together nervously, "They diagnosed me with having paranoid auditory hallucinations brought on by Schizophrenia, but that wasn't right either."

"How do you know?" Paul says while slowly sitting down next to him.

"Cause if it was, the medicine would have worked, and I wouldn't have been able to hear anyone anymore." He points out.

"Then, maybe we find a new doctor," Paul offers, and Daryl gets up shaking his head, "one that isn't so quick to dismiss you."

"No."

"But, there must be someone who can-"

"There not."

"Yeah, but maybe-"

"Didn't you hear me? I said no!"

"But why not? I mean why not let me help you find someone who can give you the help you need?"

"Don't you get it?" Daryl spins around frantic and hurt, "There isn't anyone else like me! I'm an oddity, a freak, a God damn mutant! I'm not supposed to exist, but I do! So there's no one out there who would know what to do for me except me! So no, I'm not going with you to see some doctor who's just going to run the same fucking test and ask the same damn questions I've already gone through, just for him to tell me the same thing all the others did!"

"Then have you thought about proving it to them?" Paul asks, "Ask them to think of something and read their mind to show them your serious."

"Then what? Have them burn me at the stake or send me off to some secret government lab so they can really pick my brain?" he mocks, "Think I'll pass."

"Then what about me?"

"What about you?" Daryl starts to work at packing the meat again.

"Why not prove it to me?"

"I told you I can't hear you."

"But why?" he moves to stand next to Daryl at the table, "I mean if you can read everyone else why not me?"

"Oh my God! I've told you, I just fucking can't okay!"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"WHY DO YOU CARE!" he slaps his hands down on the table in a huff, "Why do you care if it doesn't make sense, or if I can prove it or not? You obviously didn't believe me the other day when I fucking told you, so what changed your mind? Why come all the way up here and try to act like my fucking mother telling me to "get help" when you were so quick to throw me away just two days ago?"

"I- I didn't - I mean, _I did_ , but" Paul stutters and shrinks away.

"And furthermore, what's your obsession with me anyway? I told you it was best not to know me, but you jumped at every opportunity to get close to me even when I've told you it bothers me and to stop? You just keep showing up and I know-"

"I like you!" Paul blurts out with his eyes screwed shut, "And not in the normal way," he peeks up at Daryl who is now silent, "I like you in the way that, that people do when they want to hold hands and kiss and go on dates." He takes a deep breath to regain his composure, then faces him to boldly say, "I'm gay, and I like you. That's why I care."

"Wh… what?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you the other day, when you came to my dojo, but I guess it doesn't matter now. You've made your option of me very clear, so don't worry, I won't be bothering you any further." He hurries around Daryl and darts out the door.

Again, Daryl instinctively rushes after him but Paul is too quick for him and is in his car before he can stop him. All he can think as he watches an upset Paul drive off for the second time is "He said, he likes me."


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl laid in his bed staring at the roof for what felt like an eternity.

It'd been a week since Paul had been at his house and all he'd done was exactly what he was doing now. Nothing.

After Paul had left, he finished packing the rest of the meat, gotten a shower to clean off, then he'd flopped on his bed to try and rest; try and forget. However, for the better part of the week, all he could do was think about what Paul had said;

 _-"I like you, and not in the normal way. I like you in the way that, that people do when they want to hold hands and kiss and go on dates. I'm gay, and I like you. That's why I care."-_

It haunted him and left him feeling sick. Like someone had just punched him in the chest and knocked the breath out of him. His stomach was turning and he was sure he was going throw up, but it never came.

He could only lay there in perpetual teetering agony.

"What the fuck!" he says to the walls "Why do I feel like this? What is wrong with me?"

He was tired of running in circles and getting nowhere. The answer wasn't coming to him on his own so he had to ask the other person involved. So he grabs his phone and sends Paul a message saying,

 _-"Hey, can we talk?"_

He sits there waiting for what feels like another lifetime, before his phone chimes and he reads the message.

 _-"What's there to talk about?"_

Daryl rolls his eyes, "Christ, he's so fucking childish."

-" _A lot actually, mainly about what you said, the other day, before you ran off again."_

He waits for a reply and when it comes it's a whole paragraph. "Wow, okay." He says before he starts reading.

 _-"Just forget it, okay? Because, if you remember, I also said I'd leave you alone, so you don't have to worry about it or me any further. You made it clear from the start that you didn't want me around, and I selfishly persisted because I thought you were attractive. So, I'm sorry I bothered you so much, but if you don't mind, just forget everything and leave me alone so I can forget you too_."

"What?" Daryl yells out, and soon after another shorter message pops up.

 _-"Goodbye Daryl._ "

Frustrated, Daryl tosses his phone behind him blindly, and drops his head in to his hands. "Maybe if I hadn't yelled at him," Daryl thinks, "maybe then he'd talk to me, but he's just so frustrating!" Paul had been nothing more than a headache the whole time he'd known him and now even more so.

"Maybe if I apologize," he turns to get his phone but finds it in Riley's mouth, "No… no no no!" he bolts up and franticly crawls over the bed to her and tries to take it from her. "Riley stop! Don't chew on that! Drop it, drop it, I said!" But instead of dropping it, she manages to pull it back from him, and takes off running with it.

"Damn it Riley that's not a toy!" he says running after her.

It takes him about 5 minutes to find her hiding behind the couch, and then another 10 minutes to couch her out with the promise of deer meat. When she finely came out, he still had to move the couch to get the chewed up remains of his phone.

At first glance, it appears the case received most of the damage with teeth and claw marks. The screen had a few large cracks, but until he turned it on, he wouldn't know how bad it really was. So he hits the home button, and groans, "Shit!"

Half the screen was blacked out and filled with stripes, were the other half was clearly damaged from where Riley's drool had seeped under the glass. "Damn it, now I gotta get a new phone." He drops it to the couch and plops down beside it. "How am I supposed to apologize to Paul now?

Even still, if I do apologize, how can I prove to him that I'm serious?" he'd occasionally tried to come with a method to go about proving his abilities to Paul, but nothing came to mind. "I can't make him believe me by reading his mind, and I can't read anyone else's if he's nearby so that's out too."

He felt like his hands were tied behind his back, and that his ass was getting kicked. Desperately he wanted to fight back but, he was just stuck. And now with no phone he truly was left with no other option, but to rise up and face the problem head on.

Moments later, after a quick shower, and a change of clothes, he's rushing out the door and heading to his truck.

As he opens the door, a flash of dark fur comes rushing by and jumps in to the cab before him. "What the- Riley!" he points out at the ground, "Riley no! You've cause enough trouble today. It's because of you I have to buy a new phone, so get out, now!"

Riley sits in the passenger side of the truck patiently waiting for a ride, "Riley get out of the-" thunder bellows above them and it starts to drizzle, "you know what, fuck it!" he throws his hands up and gets in the truck, slamming the door, "I don't have time for this." He starts up the truck and knocks it in to gear, "You're just coming with me I guess."

Paul bows to his class, and they disperse "Good job today every one. I'll see you all next week."

While the kids gather their things and the parents wait by the door, Paul goes to about cleaning up the area. Whipping down the mats and collecting trash before heading to the back to get the mop and bucket to mop the floors.

Yet when he returns, there was one student left in the building. "Carl?" the boy looks up from where he sat, "What are you still doing here?"

"My mom is running late." He tells him, "She sent me a message saying she should be here in 20 minutes."

"Oh, well that's fine. I have to mop up and take the trash out, so you can wait in here till she gets here so you don't get soaked in the rain." The boy nods and goes about playing a game on his phone. Paul chuckles and thinks about how he'd been left with rocks to play with at that age, then goes about cleaning.

He's just able to mop a fourth of the floor when the door chimes as someone walks in. Thinking Carl's mother was able to get there sooner than expected, he mindlessly greets her without around, "Hello Mrs. Grimes."

"Uh, Mr. Rovia…" he hears a nervous Carl say, signaling that it wasn't his mother and that he needed to turn around.

Looking back, he sees a drenched and breathless Daryl staring back at him with Riley trailing in behind him. "Daryl!? What, what are you doing here?"

Daryl goes to say something but stops, looks down at Carl, who is clearly afraid of the man, then looks back to him, "C-Carl!" he says louder then he intended, "Carl why don't you go get some water for Riley."

Carl peels his gaze away from Daryl and quirks a brow at him, "The dog?" he asks innocently.

"Yes, the dog." He chuckles, "Her name is Riley and don't worry, she won't bite, she's a sweetheart."

Carl quickly jumped to his feet and took off heading to the back, "Come on Riley." He says as he goes, and she soon runs after him.

When it was just the two of them, Paul starts to hiss, "Daryl what the fuck are you doing here?"

This time Daryl wastes no time and quickly crosses the room to meet him, "I needed to talk to you."

"Daryl, no, okay! I already said what I needed to say." He tells him as he puts the mop in the bucket.

"But I can prove it! I can prove to you that I'm telling the truth about my ability."

Paul hates to admit it, but his interested in hearing what Daryl has to say, "How? Thought you said you couldn't read me?"

"I can't, but that kid," he points towards the door to the back.

"Who Carl?" he looks to the door where Carl and Riley had gone through. "He's just a kid, don't drag him in to" he waves his hand between them, "us."

"No but listen, when I was over there, at the entrance, and you were here, I could still hear him." He says pointing back behind him, "He was scared and thinking, _'This is the man momma is always talking about.'_ "

"Daryl enough!" Paul sighs, "Okay, you can't read minds!"

"But I can! And if you just let me, I can prove it!"

"and if you can't?"

"If I can't," he stands up straight and takes half a step back, "If I can't then I'll leave you alone like you wanted."

Paul thinks about it for a moment then crosses his arms and huffs, "Why are you doing this, Daryl? I mean, you got what you wanted; I haven't bothered you and don't plan on-"

"Just humor me Paul!

"Fine, whatever, let's see it."

"Okay, great, thank you," he puts his hands on Paul's shoulders and gives him a small push back, "you just stand here in this corner, and I'll go back to the other side near the door." He rushes back over there, then turns around to face him, "Now call the kid back in here."

"This is ridiculous." He groans.

"Just do it."

"Carl! Can you come here please?"

A few moments later the boy and Riley come out from the back room, "Yes Mr. Rovia?"

"Carl," Daryl says to catch his attention, "What I'm about to ask you is going to seem strange but I need your help. Okay?" Daryl say, and Carl nods apprehensively, "Good, now I'm going to let you in on a secret okay, and this secret his huge, so you can't tell anyone okay? Not even your mother, got it?" Carl nods again, but now he seemed excited to be let in on the secret. "Okay, the secret is that I can read people's minds."

"What?" Carl scoffs. "No you can't."

"I can, and that's what I'm trying to prove to Paul, I mean, Mr. Rovia." He glances across the room at him and Paul feels the butterflies in his stomach start to wake. "So, I'm going to need you to think of the craziest thing you can okay? Something that I would have no way of knowing and I'm going to tell you what it is your thinking. Then you can tell me if I'm right or not?"

"Okay." Carl smiles full of bravado now, "Let me see…"

Paul stands there across the room apart from them and starts to wonder what Carl would be thinking of. Knowing how wild a child's imagination is, it could be anything. So, it Daryl couldn't read his mind, the likely hood of him correctly guessing what Carl would be thinking of would be slim to none.

"You're thinking how cool it would be to see a movie where a Dog that can do karate and he could kick bad guys butts." Daryl says.

There was a stillness for a second and Paul waited on the edge of his seat to see if Daryl was right. Yet the only person who knew if he was or not was standing quietly in the room and he was unable to see his face to gauge his reaction, "Carl..." he whispers.

"Oh-my-GOD!" the kid starts to laugh, and Daryl looks up at him smiling proudly, "That is so cool, okay, okay do it again. What am I thinking now?"

"Okay, now you're thinking about what you'd do if you had this ability, but you shouldn't cheat on test Carl." He scolds.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't too it when you were in school."

Daryl chuckles, "That's not the point."

"Wait a second, wait a second." he says as they laugh, "Carl… Carl come here."

Carl runs across the room to him and he turns them so their backs are to Daryl, "Was that really what you were thinking? About the Dog and karate?"

"Yeah, I was, isn't it cool? He really can read people's minds!"

Paul looks back to Daryl and he just stares back with a soft grin. Then Paul has an idea so he leans down to whisper in his ear, "Okay, I want to test him, so I'm going to tell you what to think about okay?" Carl nods, "Okay, you remember your second day in class?"

"Yeah, and I'm still really sorry about that." Carl says looking down.

"I know and it's okay, but I want you to think about that day and what happened."

"Why?"

"Because there is no way he could know about it."

"Okay." Carl steps away from him and starts to walk back toward Daryl.

Yet before he can get half way across the room, Daryl starts. "Your embarrassed." Carl stops walking and Daryl continues, "Your embarrassed because on your second day here, you were so excited about learning how to fight, you ended up kicking Paul in the face during practice." He snickers. "You felt so bad you didn't show up for the next few classes. So Paul came to your house to talk to you and tell you it was okay. That you didn't hurt him and he really wanted you to come back to class. So you did."

Daryl looks up and over Carl at him, "You told him to think about his second day of class didn't you?"

Paul looks at Daryl, mouth agape, and speechless, "I… I can't believe it… you really can…"

"I told you." He shrugs and starts to walk forward, "But watch, when I'm close to you, I can't." When he's within a few feet of Paul he turns back to Carl, "Okay kid think of something."

Carl places his hand on his chin in deliberate thought and Daryl just stands there. "Well?" Carl says after a few moments, "What am I thinking?"

"Um… you're thinking you want ice-cream for dinner instead of tacos?"

Carl starts to laugh, "No! I was thinking that you guys are weird and that I wanted to play with Riley some more."

Daryl scoffs and tips his head to the door, "Well, you've served your purpose so go on and get." Carl cheers and takes off but before he can make it out of the room Daryl adds one last thing, "Oh and kid remember this power of mine… don't tell anybody, because I'll know if you do." He taps the side of his head and Carl's eyes grow big and bulbous before the runs away.

Daryl starts to snicker and turns back do face him. "Daryl… I" Paul can't find the words, and just stands there shaking his head in disbelief.

"You alright?" he still can't speak, so he shakes his head deliberately, "I know, it's a lot to take in, but I believe I've proven that I was telling the truth."

"More than that," he finely scoffs, "I just don't understand; how is this possible?"

"I don't know, it just started one day when I was a kid and never stopped."

"So this whole time, you've really been able to hear the thoughts of everyone in town?"

"Every-single-one." He drones, before lightening his tone, "Except you. That's how I was able to tell you were there at the auto store. You got close enough, and it blocked everyone else out."

"I see… Then, it's no wonder you hated everyone." He chuckles, "Hearing all their dirty secrets and anything bad they thought. Not just about you, but every one? It just sounds overwhelming. I think I'd lose faith in people too."

"But look, about what you said," Paul looks up still dazed by the truth, "About liking me?"

"Oh, oh that!" he blushes and again starts to slink away, "Look, let's just forget I said anything, okay?"

"What if I can't?" he whispers.

"What?"

"Look, all week I've thought about what you said and I can't get over it. Now, I can't promise that I'll be able to properly return your feelings. After all, I've never been in any friends much less any of the … romantic type, but I know that I don't won't you to go anywhere."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, I'm willing to give it a chance if you are," he hesitantly reaches out to take Paul's hand, but stops short with a hard sigh.

"It's okay, you don't have to push yourself." Paul says with a nervous smile. "But if you're alright with it, I'd prefer if we just leave this in the past."

"What?"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your abilities, and I'll try to avoid you if I see you out in town so it will be like I'm not even there."

"Why though. I thought, I thought this is what you wanted?"

"It is, in part, but you said it yourself. You don't know if you could return my feelings, and I'd rather not torture myself by being around you knowing I can't have m-" Paul feels pressures on the back of his head, pulling his body forward against his wishes, followed by another pressure against his lips that only last a few seconds.

When it stops, Daryl rests his forehead against his and through his shaggy hair, Paul can see the blush creeping up his face. "You… Did you just…?"

"Just shut up for a second okay." Daryl breathes heavily for a moment before standing up straight, "Better?"

"Better?" Paul can't help it and starts to laugh out loud, "You, you force a kiss on me and then ask if I'm better?" he grabs his stomach and doubles over, "God you're a piece of work."

"Well excuse me for not knowing how people do this sort of thing," Daryl huffs and crosses his arms, "It's not my fault it's my first kiss."

Paul laugh quickly dwindles "You're what?"

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Rovia?" Mrs. Grimes said as she bursts in from the storm, causing them both to turn around, "I was taking my mother to, oh…" she finely looked up to see that Paul wasn't alone. "You have… company."

Paul looks down at how close he and Daryl were and knows what she's thinking, "uh, Mr. Grimes, yes, Carl's in the back with Riley." He separates himself from Daryl and goes to retrieve Carl.

"Who's Riley?" She asks not taking her eyes off Daryl.

"She's my dog." Daryl says slightly annoyed.

"Hey, mom!" Carl calls out as he rushes across the room to greet her, Riley following him closely.

"Hey baby, do you have your things?"

"Yep," he grabs his bag and holds it up, "all ready to go."

"That's good." She glances over at Daryl, "Carl, are you alright? Nothing happened did it?"

"No momma," he looks over at Paul and Daryl and smiles, "Daryl just came by to talk to Mr. Rovia and I got to play with his dog."

"I see that," she continues to glare at him, but with no proof that he did anything wrong, she doesn't say anything. "Well, Mr. Dixon, thank you for letting my son play with your dog while he waited." Daryl gives a hard nod, "We'll see you next week, Mr. Rovia."

"Alright, see you then." Paul says with a wave, "Goodbye Carl."

"Bye Mr. Rovia. Bye Daryl."

"See ya around kid." Daryl nods.

Mr. Grimes ushers Carl out in to the storm and under the safety of her umbrella. As they walk by the big window, Carl gives one last wave to the two men and they wave back.

Once they passed, Paul lets out a loud sigh and gasps his chest. "Holy shit! That was tense."

"Yep."

"I mean did you see the way she was glaring at us?" Paul chuckles, "If looks could kill right?"

"Uh-huh."

Paul picks up on how closed off Daryl is again and grow suspicious, "What's wrong?"

"What?" Daryl looks up and shakes his head, "Oh, nothing."

"No, come on, tell me."

Daryl sighs and shrugs, "It's just, are you really okay with people looking at you like that; like you're the scum of the earth, because that's how people will look at you if we're together."

"And…" Paul shrugs, "Daryl I've already told you I don't care what people think about you, and despite the fact you can hear what they think, neither should you." Paul crosses his arms and stands tall, "In fact, I think that as long as I'm there, you won't hear them anyway. That way we both get what we want."

"As long as your there?" Daryl looks over at him pointedly, "You say that like you plan on staying with me?"

"Well maybe only a night or two at first." Paul teases. "but we'll see where it goes."

Daryl catches on and tries to glare at him but ends up laughing, "Smart-ass."

The two laugh together for a moment, till Paul remembers he has to finish cleaning, "So, um, look, I got to finish mopping then take out the trash, but what do you say to me coming by after I'm done? I'll even bring the beer again."

Daryl scoffs, and looks down with a smile, "I'll get the beer this time. Gotta few things I gotta do in town anyway." He pulls out his damaged phone and shows it to him, "But if you don't mind, I'd really rather wait till you were done and have you just go with me.

"Really?" Paul beams, "Well, alright, I'll just mop the rest tomorrow morning, and take the trash out now, and we can be on our way."

"Alright then, I'll wait out front. Come on Riley."

Paul watches Daryl and Riley head out side and wait under the awning. He then rushes to dump out the dirty mop water, then grabs the trash bags and runs out in to the rain to throw it in to the dumpster. Finely, he heads to his office, changes his clothes, and then stuffs his dirty clothes in his duffle bag, before sprinting out to meet Daryl outside. "Ready?" he asks stamping out his cigarette.

"Yep, just gotta lock up." He sticks his key in the door and locks it, before turning to face Daryl. "Let's go." Daryl stands there for a second with an odd smile, "What?" Daryl leans down and steals a second kiss, this time lasting a little longer.

When it's over, he doesn't say a word and just starts walking. Paul takes a second to savor the taste of cigarettes on his lips, then runs off in to the rain to catch up; daring to slip his arm around Daryl's and smiling brightly when Daryl doesn't pull away.

"Let's go, Riley." Daryl calls back at the pup who was chasing a leaf being washed away by the rain. She runs to catch up then trots in front of them to lead the way. As they walk, the only thing either of them could hear was the sound of the rain beating down around them.

~~~The End~~~

A/N- First, let me thank you all for reading my work. It's not often I actually finish so when I do, I feel 10x as nervous about it. Next, I'm sorry if it didn't lead to where you wanted, (like Smutville) but this is the ending I'd envisioned from the start. I wanted to write an angst fill story and I feel I completed that goal. Anyway, thank you again for reading.


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